Fated Meetings
by Duochanfan
Summary: Sherlock is investigating a new case, when it comes to interviewing the victim's son, he meets Captain John H. Watson for the first time. This is only the beginning of a relationship that will define them both. (Eventual Johnlock.)
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Well, here is another new story. It's half way finished already. So I do hope you enjoy it.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter One**

Sherlock Holmes sat across from Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade, staring at him and making the other man slightly uncomfortable with the scrutiny. The older male had called him in earlier that day, to come and look over some of the notes for a case he was working on. Sherlock had read through them quickly. He went over the photos with an air of distaste as he realised exactly who had taken the slightly out of focus pictures.

"Anderson really needs to learn how to do his job, especially in how to take a proper picture. You should send him back to University, though maybe nursery would be more on his level." Sherlock said as he looked up from the notes he was re-reading and the pictures he was glancing through.

"Sherlock," Lestrade said in exasperation, "just tell me what you think?" he prompted him, leaning on his desk as he looked at the young man sitting across from him.

"I need to see the scene first and to talk with the son about the victims." Sherlock told him, ignoring Lestrade's question. Sherlock hadn't even bothered to look up from the notes he was once again going through.

Lestrade shook his head and sighed. He should be used to the young mans attitude and stubbornness by now. He had known him for four years, and had worked with him for just as long, "Sherlock, I'm not going to let you talk to him, there is no way that I will let you do that to the victims son."

Sherlock finally looked up from the notes and said, "I need to talk to him to know what he thought about his parents during the time leading up to his discovery of his parents bodies. And what his parents were like during the times that he was in contact with them. I need to know if there was anything that was different about them. What they told him before their deaths could be important. Sergeant Murray will be able to give me that, you can't because you don't ask the right questions. At the moment, I have nothing but a break in gone wrong, and I know that there is more to this than meets the eye." he finished in a huff.

Lestrade shook his head again, sighing, "Sherlock. There is no way on earth that I will let you go and see him. You're not good with people, witnesses, victims, or anyone. Just look through my notes instead." He shook his head, "If you have a specific question you want to ask, just tell me and I'll be the one to ask it," he then suggested.

Sherlock jumped up and began to pace the office, "Not good enough. I need to talk to him personally, to see his reactions. I need to see the scene for myself as well. There is most likely things that you and you incompetent officers have missed, and that goes treble for Anderson. I have no doubt that a lot of the evidence has been ruined thanks to Anderson's blundering ways." He then paused for a moment and looked to him, "And caring does not help me investigate crimes. It does not help me in catching the criminal."

The Detective Inspector sighed and rolled his eyes, "Sherlock, empathy helps get what you need from people. Try it some times. As for the crime scene, well, maybe in a day or two. I'll go back and you can come with me, I have some things to do before hand."

Sherlock huffed in annoyance; he looked to Lestrade and then looked to the notes once last time. He turned around and then without another word, he left the office. Sherlock wondered what he could do next, it was still early in the day. First he needed to check on one of his experiments back in his flat. He called out for a taxi and headed home for a while to take care of it.

XxXxX

After an hour of messing around, his experiment was back on track for the third phase. The recent result written down, ready to join the previous ones. Sherlock got ready to leave once again and opened the front door of his flat and looked round the door. He grimaced when he saw his next-door neighbour standing outside her door. The woman lying in wait for the young man to leave the flat.

"Oh Sherlock," she smiled as she walked over to him. Her smile was faked, as always, and the perfume she wore was over powering, and not a pleasant fragrance at all.

"Miss Franks," he said, keeping the revulsion off his face, but only just, "sorry I can not stop, I have work to do today." He added as he side stepped around her and quickly made his way towards the stairs. It had been like that for Sherlock, since the moment he had moved into the block of flats. The woman hounded him, asking him out for coffee and dinner dates. Not only that she had taken to knocking on his door whenever she noticed he was at home to bring him food. It irritated the man and he hoped that he would be able to get out of there soon.

He took the stairs two at time as he rush away from her, ignoring the shout that she was bring him some dinner for him to eat later. Sherlock came to the ground floor; happy he was away from her. He then sighed when he saw his landlord at the exit to the flats. He stood right next to the exit for the flat. Sherlock knew he wouldn't be able to get away with the man seeing and catching him.

"Holmes!" came the angry call from the man as soon as he spotted the world's only Consulting Detective.

"Tibbs," Sherlock nodded as he walked towards the man.

"I'm getting complaints about you again. You playing the violin at all times during the night. And the smell coming from there as well. Just what the hell are you doing in that blasted flat!" he yelled, as he looked Sherlock dead in the eye.

"It is important for my work." Was his only answer, trying to move around the man, only to stop when Tibbs moved as well to stop him.

"I don't care. If you want to stay the rent is going to go up." Tibbs told him, his brown eyes narrowing.

"Fine," Sherlock sighed, "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get going. I have work to do."

"Fine Holmes, I'll post the new rent though your door later on. Just make sure to pay, and try and keep the noise and smells down. Open the fucking windows for a start!" Tibbs called after him as Sherlock once again rushed off.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the drama and walked out of the flat and to the street. He put up a hand as he shouted "Taxi!"

It didn't take long for a black cab to pull up. He gave the driver the address of the barracks that he needed to go to. He would be talking to Sergeant William Murray first. The case that Sherlock was now working on was that of Anita and Scott Murray. Their twenty-nine year old son had returned home on leave, only to find his parents beaten to death in the living room of their home. Sherlock wanted to know what he could about the man, about his parents and what was going on around the home.

Sherlock looked out of the window as they started to head out of London. He wondered a little about what he might be able to learn from William Murray.

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**Well, another first chapter. I do hope you have enjoyed it. I shall be posting this every week, as long as I get the chapters edited.**

**To keep up with my updates. Click on the link to my Tumblr in my profile.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Well another chapter for you all. Introducing John!**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Two**

Sherlock walked into the main office of the army barracks and looked around. The room was painted in green, the same green that screamed military. There was a desk and a few chairs dotted around the room. There were a couple of pictures on the walls, depicting training and combat situations. Sherlock walked towards the desk and looked to the man sat behind it. He looked tall and muscular, his uniform pristine and perfect. Sherlock pulled out the ID that he had pick pocketed from an annoying Lestrade earlier. He was grateful that the ID didn't have the mans picture on it, otherwise he would be able to do what he was about to.

"DI Lestrade, I need to speak to Sergeant William Murray." He said as he showed the ID to the man.

The man, a lieutenant, but what Sherlock could tell by the markings on the uniform, "What is your business here DI Lestrade?" he asked him.

"I'm here on official business," Was Sherlock's answer, "It is up to Sergeant Murray if he wants you to know." He added.

"Yes Sir," he nodded as he stood up, "I know about the murder of Sergeant Murray's parents three weeks ago. Gather you are here about that." He quired a little.

"That I am," he nodded, the Lieutenant nodded again as he led the way.

"I hope you catch the bastard who did it Sir," He said as he opened another door after a couple of minutes of silence. "He's in there at the moment Sir. He is naturally upset." He added as he gave a nod of respect to Sherlock.

"Thank you Lieutenant," he said as he then entered the room. The door shut silently on him and he looked around the recreation room. There was a pool table, TC and sofas around the place. A large number of things where people could relax after a hard day of training.

There were only two men in the room at the moment. Sherlock kept close to the door, as he took the time to observe them both. One was tall, slim and his hair was a dark brown. His shoulders were drooped and what he could hear of the voice, it was weary. Sherlock was quickly able to deduce that the man was Sergeant William Murray. The other man was short, more compact muscle. The face was kind, showing worry, sympathy and concern in the light blue eyes that were looking to the man sitting before him.

"Who are you?" the sandy blond haired man asked him as soon as he noticed the stranger in the room, "Why are you here?" there was a slight frown on his face as he asked.

"My name is Sherlock Holmes, I'm currently working with DI Lestrade. I need to speak to Sergeant William Murray. I can see that you are not he, but the man sitting down is. So may I ask your name?" Sherlock asked him as he walked closer to the two of them, stepping around the sofa to reach them.

"I'm Captain John Watson," the man answered as he stood up. His voice was calm and steady as he moved closer to Murray, as though protecting him.

"Please to meet you Captain Watson." He nodded in greeting, as he now stood before John.

"Please, call me John." He said as he held out a hand.

Sherlock took it and gave a firm shake as he said, "Please call me Sherlock, John." John nodded in agreement.

"Hey Doc," the man said as Jon turned to face him, "It's all right. I can talk to him, anything to find the one who killed them."

"Doc?" Sherlock questioned as he observed John. "Hmmm, more than just a doctor though. A surgeon I would say."

John blinked a few times, "yeah I am. How?" he asked and then shook his head, "doesn't mater." He murmured as he sat down on the sofa across from Murray, Sherlock sitting next to him.

"I am Sergeant Murray," the brown haired man said softly. Sherlock observed the man a little, the grief he was feeling was written all over his face, "But please call me Bill."

Sherlock nodded his head as he began to ask his questions, "First thing, when did you last have chance to see your parents face to face and was there anything unusual about the visit?"

"Christmas. It was my last leave. I spent the holidays with them." He answered him, "But there was nothing out of the ordinary when I visited, they were as they usually were. Happy that I was home safe."

Sherlock thought for a moment, "When did you last hear from them, a letter, email, phone call, that kind of thing?" he then asked, "and was there anything unusual about it?"

"I talked to them over Skype, the day before the police say they were murdered." He informed him softly, "still can't believe that was only three weeks ago. They were happy, told them that I was coming home on leave in a weeks time." He murmured, head down as he tried to control his emotions.

"How did they sound to you?" he asked another as he clarified, "Happy, scared, angry about anything. That kind of thing?"

"Nervous, they sounded nervous. Scared of something. I could tell that they were keeping something from me. I did ask, but they brushed it off. So I decided to leave it. I was going home on leave soon enough, thought it might be better to ask them when I got home." He paused for a moment. "Mum did mentioned that they had upgraded their security. By what I could figure from what they said, there were sensors and alarms everywhere. It was odd, because nothing had happened in the neighbour as far I knew. Though they could have kept something from me." Bill answered as best as he could.

"Did they mention anything about the area, new people showing up? Things happening in the neighbourhood, just small things. Like a neighbour moving? Anyone that they mentioned, that they usually didn't?" he then fired a few more questions towards the grieving man.

Bill frowned and shook his head, "I don't know. I don't think they mentioned anything like that at all. They always kept everything up beat when they sent me anything. Emails and calls, always happy, letters too. They always did that, always so scared that I would come home in a box." He said, his voice beginning to shake as he tried to think of all the calls, emails and letters that his parents had sent him over the last two months.

"Sherlock," John called out, looking worriedly towards his friend. Sherlock turned to John as the doctor continued speaking, "I suggest that you slow down on your barrage of questions, or better yet, stop and let him have a break."

Sherlock sent John a frown as he asked him, "Why?"

"Not good Sherlock," he shook his head, "too many questions, to quickly, and much too soon as well. Bill is still trying to come to terms with what has happened and finding them. And yes while we are used to such type of sights in combat, finding those we care about in that type of situation isn't normal. He's grieving." John told him as he stood up and joined Bill on the other sofa, he put a hand on Bill's shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze, "Bill, go and have a lie down for a bit. Get some rest and let yourself calm down."

Bill nodded a little despondently as he stood up, "yeah." He then walked out of the room, leaving the two alone.

John waited for the door to close as he turned to look at the man, "What do you think happened?" he asked him. He hadn't wanted to ask while Bill was in the room.

Sherlock ignored John's question as he looked through the man as he said, "I need to go to the Murray house. I believe the answers to this case will be there."

"What?" John frowned, wondering what the man was going on about.

Sherlock stood up and began to walk away. He froze and then turned, looking down at John as he asked him, "Why don't you come with me? You will be able to tell your friend what I learn."

"I don't know if that would be a good idea," John shook his head, looking up at the man.

Sherlock smirked at him and gave a dry chuckle as he spoke, "You want to know what I'm thinking? What I am going to be doing? What I find out? Then come with me." He paused for a moment as he added, "Surely you will be able to leave for a little while to help me with my investigation. And to make sure that justice is served for your friend."

John sighed, he had to admit to himself that he was interested in what the man was going to do, "Fine, let me go and sign out first."

It didn't take long for the two of them to be sat in the back of a black cab. Speeding towards the Murray family home.

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**Thank you for reading so far, I do hope you are enjoying this story. Thanks for the reviews so far!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Hope you like this next chapter.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Three**

Sherlock paid for the cab as they stepped out of it. John had been to the Murray family home only once before. It had been the last time that the two of them had leave at the same time. He looked around the neighbourhood; it was a quiet place, which suited the two people that lived in the house. Most of the people living in the small cul-de-sac were those that had retired. There had been no children around during the time John had been staying there. John quickly followed Sherlock as he headed towards the front door.

"Sherlock, I don't think that is a good idea." He winced as he saw that the other man had knelt down and was picking the lock on the door. John had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, that something was going to happen. It was a feeing that had saved his life on a number of occasions.

"It will be fine John, don't worry so much." He said as he looked up with a smirk, the door clicking as he then opened it.

John sighed, "I can't believe what I'm doing." He was annoyed at what he had been talked into.

Sherlock chuckled dryly, "Don't worry John, it's time for an adventure." his eyes alight with humour as he looked to John.

John rolled his eyes as he followed Sherlock inside. He watched as the man went around the living room quickly, looking at things. Sherlock went from one place to another, muttering a little to himself. John himself had a look around. He didn't think anything had changed except a recent picture Bill had sent to his parents almost a month ago.

"The mother is extremely proud of her son being in the Army. The father not so much, but there is a shared love of classical music. I believe that the father plays the piano, that is over in the corner, while his son has learned to play the flute." Sherlock said as he stood straight.

John looked over to him and frowned in puzzlement, "How do you know all that?"

"The pictures on the wall are mainly of her son, most of them are of him in uniform, or pictures sent home by him. They are religiously cleaned, showing her pride in them. Some of the other pictures are not as clean as these ones. Also, the chair over there by the bookcase and stereo, there are classical music CD's around it. On the bookcase there is sheet music. There are a lot of classical piano pieces. But there is a growing number of Flute pieces, not used often, the piano music is. There is also a case on the top shelf, if I am not mistake, which I am not, it holds a flute." Sherlock explain as he looked over to John, wondering what the other thought of his deductions.

John gave a startled laugh as he said, "That was amazing."

"Really?" Sherlock asked, a little startled.

John looked to him and nodded, "Yes, it really was. You learned all that from the simple talk you had with him and what you saw around the house?" he then asked in awe of what the fascinating man had just done.

"I observed," Sherlock shrugged, "I observe what we all see and put it together. I use what I can do to help people, even when they tell me to piss off."

John gives a laugh, as Sherlock joins him, "Can you see anything that will help with this case?" John then asked. He could easily see people telling Sherlock to piss off.

"Not here, but I haven't finished looking around yet." He answered as he started to go around the house and look for what may be the answer.

John watched and followed as Sherlock moved from room to room around the house. He then ended up entering the main bedroom on the second floor. John walked over to the window and looked out as Sherlock began to look around, once more he was muttering to himself, and John had to wonder if he did that when he was on his own at a crime scene. It spoke of loneliness to John, and it sent a pang of sadness through him.

"Sherlock," John interrupted him as he looked out of the window to the garden of a property over the back of the house. Something had come to the Captain and he wondered if Sherlock had thought of it.

"What is it John?" he asked as he turned to look at him, he was lying on his stomach, looking under the bed.

"What about if they saw something. There are no net curtains here, so people can easily see them and they can easily see out. There is another garden at the back of the property. They have a really high fence and there is someone a little shady over there at the moment. It gives me a bad feeling." John told him looking over to him.

Sherlock jumped up from where he was lying on the floor and rushed out of the room yelling, "You are a genius John!"

"Sherlock?" he called out as he looked to the garden and saw another two people enter it, "Damn," he cursed as he rolled his eyes and then took off after Sherlock, "that man is going to end up dead if he does this on his own all the time." he muttered under his breath as he darted down the stairs.

John rushed out the back door and into the garden. He could hear yelling coming from the other side of the high fence at the back of the garden. He huffed a little as he wondered just how fit the thin looking man was. He climbed the fence quickly and jumped over. There were now four men surrounding Sherlock, each of them going towards Sherlock to attack him.

One started to throw a punch towards Sherlock as he ducked out the way and John grabbed the arm and twisted it, hitting him on a weak point and knocking him out. With that the other three quickly moved. It took a few moments for Sherlock and John to subdue them all. But they were soon knocked out as they could hear a car start up and drive away on squealing tires. Sherlock glanced in the direction as he heard it.

"You are nuts, you know that." John gasped out, "I haven't ever done anything as crazy as that." He huffed out a laugh and shook his head.

Sherlock looked to him and grinned, "I do believe you are the crazier one, you are invading a country at the moment after all."

John laughed, "I'm not alone in that one though."

Sherlock nodded and laughed a little, "The cops should be here in a moment." He said, "I sent a text to one of the ones that are around here."

John nodded as the two waited, though there wasn't long to wait as almost six cops quickly pilled into the backyard. John looked at them all and then to Sherlock as one of them walked over to the younger man.

Sherlock looked to the woman approaching him and said, "These are the ones responsible for the death of the Murray's. The Murray's witness someone being killed in this very garden three weeks before their deaths. There is a bloodstained patch of grass and earth over there that had been disturbed slightly; someone tried to hide it by digging in the garden. I suggest you make sure Anderson starts wearing glasses from now on; how he could have missed it I don't know. You will have to search for the body, though one of those could easily tell you." He explained what he had figured out as he looked from her and pointed around the garden. "Another two have escaped the area. Car, from what I saw, it is a dark blue Mercedes Benz." he then added.

"I'll call Lestrade to come down." She said with a nod. "I'll tell them to keep an eye out for the car as well." she nodded.

"Fine." Sherlock nodded.

"Erm, I need to head back to base in a moment, if you need a statement or something, can I do so now?" John asked as he noted the time.

"Sorry sir," one of the younger PC's said as he went over to John and asked a number of questions, taking his statement along with where he was staying at that moment in time, "Someone will come and see you for a proper statement later on." He then said when John had finished.

"Well, I need to go." John smiled as he went over to Sherlock, "Hey, Sherlock, I need to get back to base. Thanks for taking me with you. I need to tell Bill what you were able to find out."

"All right, I shall see you around." Sherlock nodded, a small smile on his face.

"Yeah, that would be nice." John smiled back at him.

With that John was able to get a ride back to the base with one of the officers. He went over to a well-rested Bill and took his aside and told him what Sherlock had been able to figure out about his parents murder.

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**Thank you for the reviews, I love them all, they are wonderful. I do hope you continue to enjoy reading this fic.**

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	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Here is another chapter, hope you all enjoy it. A little OOC for them I believe.**

**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Four**

John nodded to Bill as he walked out of the barracks and into the yard. He needed a little fresh air. A Sergeant from New Scotland Yard had come by yesterday for a written statement. He was just glad that he didn't have to go down to the station to do it. He headed towards one of the other buildings when he heard someone call out his name.

"John!" came a slightly familiar voice as the doctor turned around to see who it was.

"Sherlock," John chuckled and frowned, wondering what the man could be doing there, "What are you doing here?"

Sherlock grinned a little, "I was bored, and since the case is over, I was wondering if you wanted to talk. You are rather fascinating to me."

John laughed, "I don't know if I'm fascinating at all, but sure we can talk. I wouldn't mind getting to know you. you're just as fascinating to me," he grinned at him.

Sherlock nodded as John led the way to a more secluded area and sat down on a low wall. Sherlock quickly sat beside him as silence descended on them.

John was the one to break it as he asked, "So what is it that you actually do with the police?"

"I'm a Consulting Detective, the only one in the world. When the police are out of their depth, which they are most of the time, I step in to help them solve the case." Sherlock explained, "I also do cases that come to me privately. Though they are very boring most of the time, so I turn a lot of them down." he finished, glancing over to the man sat beside him,

"Like to keep things interesting then," John nodded, he could understand that a little. He didn't know what he would do if he wasn't a surgeon or in the army.

"So," Sherlock said as he gazed over to his new friend, "What do you do exactly?" he wondered.

John chuckled, "There isn't much to me. I'm an Army Surgeon, I was with the RAMC, but I joined the Army as a combat solider about five years ago now. I've been deployed in Ireland, Sierra Leone, Iraq and Afghanistan, which is where I am at the moment." He told him, a smile on his face. "What about family?" he then asked.

"A brother, my parents are alive as well, though I haven't seen them in quiet some time. They have been travelling, enjoying their retirement." He paused for a moment, "As for my brother, Mycroft annoys me. He is always watching what I am doing, keeping his beady little eyes on me." He huffed a little.

John frowned at the words, "Why would he do that?"

Sherlock went silent as he wondered if he could trust John enough to tell him without the other walking away. Those that learnt, always thought the same, once an addict always an addict, and while that was true. He did his best to keep clean. John looked to him, he could see that there was something troubling him.

"Look, you don't have to tell me, but I doubt there is anything that can drive me away." He told the taller man, hoping that it would reassure him.

"Very well." He sighed a little, "I became addicted to drugs when I was in my late teens. That was until almost five years ago when I over dosed. Lestrade, who is a DI with Scotland Yard, was the one who found me. He and my brother conspired together to get me into rehab. I went, and stayed there through six months of tedious therapy. Lestrade said he would give me cases from the Yard if I stayed clean."

John was a little shocked that someone that appeared so smart could do something like that. He knew that there would have been some underlying cause to it in the end, "Why take them?"

"As you have seen my mind doesn't stop, its constantly working. Sometimes I just want it to stop a little, or to bring something into better focus, that's what the drugs did. They either stopped my mind or brought things into better focus." Sherlock answered him honestly. He couldn't believe that he was telling an almost stranger some of his darkest moments in life.

"Are you clean now?" John asked, he believed he knew the answer to that already.

"Yes," Sherlock said and saw the belief in him, "Just gone four years. I am tempted at times, but I haven't yet."

"Don't. Don't you ever give in. If you feel it start to overwhelm you call someone. Or go and be with someone. Do some writing or reading or anything to take your mind off it. But what ever you do, don't give in." John said, his voice shaking a little at the thought of Sherlock going down that path again. He didn't know why he felt so shaky at the thought of someone he just met being addicted to drug, he just was, "My parents, well they died some time ago. I have a sister as well, older than me. She 's a very heavy drinker. If she carries on the way she is going, she has around ten years left before it kills her. If she stops, then she has a good chance of a long life. I don't think I could handle someone else going through addiction." He said with a soft shake of his head, "I know that you will fight against it for the rest of your life. But just don't give in to it at all." he almost pleaded as he looked to Sherlock.

Sherlock looked to him, a little shocked at the reaction, but nodded when he saw the worry in the pleading blue eyes, "I will do everything I can to make sure I don't." he promised to do all he could to avoid it.

John smiled softly, relief evident in his voice as he spoke, "Good to hear. To be honest, there isn't much to tell about me."

"I believe there is something more to you, but you know," he paused for a moment, "I would like to find out over time, you are a puzzle John Watson. You seem like the most upstanding man around, yet you were quick to follow me. The thrill of the chase, the puzzle, do they call to you as they do to me?" he wondered aloud as he looked to the older man.

"Though the last part wasn't so bad, I just had a feeling that told me if I didn't go with you, you would have been in trouble without someone to help you out of it." John snorted, smiling at Sherlock.

Sherlock chuckled dryly, "That has been known to happen." The two exchanged glances and shakes of their head laughing as they remembered what had happened two days ago at the Murray house. Sherlock's phone beeped, he pulled it out of his pocket and sighed, "It looks like Lestrade wants me at the Yard." he gave a small almost sad look towards John at the thought of leaving so soon.

"It was good talking to you. I wouldn't mind you stopping by again, and I can leave base you know." John smiled at him.

Sherlock nodded slowly as he pulled out a small card from an inside pocket, "Good, here is my number and information. Keep in touch as well. Maybe if I have time I shall come by again." He handed the card over as John took it from him, looking it over before tucking it away.

"That would be nice." He nodded back, still smiling at the other.

Sherlock returned the smile and then left John alone, heading to New Scotland Yard, wondering what Lestrade could want already. The man had only just closed a case for the DI.

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**Thank you all for reading. I do hope you enjoy this. Thank you all for the wonderful reviews!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Thank you all for reading this. I do hope you are still enjoying it.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**CHAPTER FIVE**

John stood up from the wall and started to head back inside. He stopped when one of the younger soldiers ran up to him. The young man stopped before him and snapped a smart salute.

John saluted him back as he asked him, "May I help you?"

"Yes Captain. The Major has asked for you to join him in his office as soon as." he replied.

"Thank you, I'll head there now." he nodded as the nervous young cadet gave another salute and then rushed away. John gave a little frown as he wondered what the major could want with him. He headed towards the office quickly. It wouldn't do to dawdle.

John knocked on the door and waited to be let in, "Sir." he saluted as he came to a stop before the desk.

"Captain, there is someone who would like to have a private chat with you. I shall be waiting outside for when you are finished." He said as he gave a nod to John. It was then that John noticed the other man in the room

John looked to him, frowning a little as he saw thinning red hair atop a thin face, with a slightly too large a nose for it. He was dressed in a well tailored three piece suit. "May I ask who you are?"

"I don't think that concerns you at this point in time." He said with an air of authority, "At this moment in time, I wish for you to answer a question. What are you to Sherlock Holmes?" there was a hint of warning in the voice, but also, hidden underneath it there was concern.

John thought for a moment who would be concerned for Sherlock. It only took a few seconds for things to click into place and he could not help but chuckle a little as he looked to him with a slight smirk and said, "Well I think that would make you Mycroft Holmes then wouldn't it."

The man couldn't help but look a little shock, though he quickly regain his demeanour as he asked again, "I ask again what is your relationship with Sherlock Holmes?"

"At this moment in time, I believe we are friends. To be honest I don't mind the thought of us being friends at all. He's a rather interesting person." John smiled as he thought of his new friend.

"You truly believe that you could be friends already," Mycroft said with a shake of his head, "Sherlock doesn't have friends."

"I think he does, but doesn't recognized them as such. And I hope that I am becoming a friend to him," he told Mycroft.

"You are loyal very fast aren't you." He chuckled dryly, shaking his head in amusement.

John snorted in laughter, "Yeah, I guess I am." He shook his head a little as he then asked, "Are we done?"

"I will be keeping a close eye on you and on my brother." He said, emotions no longer on his face.

John frowned as he said, "I know that Sherlock has made mistakes in the pas. But he is doing everything he can to keep clean. Maybe if you back off a little things would go much smoother between the two of you."

Mycroft's eyes went wide as he asked softly, "How do you know about that?"

"Sherlock told me, about the drugs, the overdose and about you and Lestrade getting him into Rehab. He may not say it, but I can tell that he is actually thankful for that. But he's annoyed at the constant looking over his shoulder. As though you are just waiting for him to make a mistake." John told him a soft smile on his face, "You need to trust him again."

"It is the only way I can know what is going on with him. He doesn't speak to our parents. He doesn't even speak to me most of the time unless he has to." Mycroft said, there was a slight melancholy tone to his voice as he spoke.

"There could be a number of reasons for that. I think it would be better to let Sherlock decided when to bridge the gap between you all. Watching over his shoulder all the time just keeps the resentment going." He advised him.

Mycroft smiled as he said, "You know, you may just be a good thing for my little brother. I shall see you around Captain Watson, or do you prefer Doctor Watson?"

John smiled back and gave a smirk, "It depends on my mood, at the moment it's John."

Mycroft nodded his head, "Very well, goodbye John." He then walked past him and out of the office.

Major Donalds walked back and looked to him as he asked, "Is everything all right Watson?"

"Yes Sir, I just need to make a quick call to someone." John told him.

With a quick salute John was dismissed and he went over to the barracks where he could phone Sherlock.

"Holmes," came the voice on the other end.

"Hey," John smiled, "it's me John."

"John?" Sherlock was a little surprised that the other man had called so quickly, "What is it?" he asked, puzzled.

John chuckled, "I just had a nice visit from someone."

Sherlock sighed, "Let me guess, my brother."

"Don't think that was a guess, but you're bang on. He wanted to know what we are to each other. I did tell him that we are friends. Don't think he was too sure on that though. I think he was a little surprised that I knew who he was and about your past." John said, not wanting anyone to figure out what he was talking about.

"I don't talk to many people. And I don't really have friends." Sherlock said softly, "What do you think about coming to dinner with me tomorrow night, nothing fancy at all just a meal and some talking. Getting to know each other a little more." he then asked him, changing the subject completely.

John smiled and shook his head slightly, "You know, I could get away for that. It would be nice to have something other that what is made here. While the food is good, it's almost the same thing each time." He chuckled a little, "So yeah, dinner tomorrow. What time?"

"About seven, if convenient," he suggested.

"That would be just fine." He nodded to himself. "Well, I should go, and thanks for stopping by today. It was nice to see you again. I'll be going to the Murray's funeral in two days, Bill has finally been able to get it all sorted out."

"I can understand that. I will see you tomorrow for dinner." Sherlock grinned on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, and bye Sherlock." John said softly.

"Bye John," he replied as the two of them hung up.

John walked back to the barracks and met up with Bill. John told him a little of what had happened so far that day. About Sherlock and his over protective big brother. He left out the information about the drugs, since that was private business. Bill had then started to tease him as soon as John made the mistake of telling him about going to dinner with Sherlock tomorrow night.

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**Thank you all for reading so far, I'm so happy that you are enjoying this so far. Thank you all for the brilliant reviews as well, I love you guys!**

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	6. Chapter 6

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**CHAPTER SIX**

John was in civilian clothing this time, as he sat in the back of a cab with Sherlock. Dressed casually in a dark pair of trousers and his favourite blue shirt, that brought out the colour of his eyes better. He felt ready for the date he was on. He looked over to his new friend; Sherlock was looking out of the window and seemed to be a little nervous. John smiled a little as he looked out the window as the cab started to slow down as it reached its destination.

"We're here." Sherlock said as he paid the driver and got out of the cab. He waited on the pavement for John to join him.

John looked around and saw a small restaurant in front of him, "Looks nice." He grinned, as he glanced over to him.

Sherlock looked to him and grinned back at him, "Angelo runs it, as you can tell by the name. I helped him out of a spot of trouble two years ago, almost a year ago he opened this place. I tend to come here when I need to eat." he told him as they stood there looking at each other.

"When you need to eat?" John asked as they finally walked towards the door.

"I don't eat a lot, it slows me down too much." Sherlock answered him honestly.

"Your body needs food Sherlock," he told him with a shake of his head, "It needs the energy from it."

"I will be eating today, so don't worry. But I won't be eating as much as most I tend not to." Sherlock warned him, a small reassuring smile on his face.

John glanced at him as Sherlock opened the door and walked into the restaurant first and kept the door open as John followed him inside. John was about to say something when a booming voice called out, "Sherlock!"

A more muscular man walked towards them and pulled Sherlock into a hug, though John smiled when he could see the unsure look on Sherlock's face as well as the uncomfortable look that quickly over took it. The man let go and then spotted John almost hiding behind Sherlock. The man looked between the two of them and smiled widely, "Good to see you Sherlock, and you brought a date."

"It's a friendly dinner," John said as he looked to Sherlock, a little unsure.

"For now, Angelo." Sherlock smiled to John as he turned to Angelo, "do you have a table ready for us?" he asked.

"Of course, your usual table is waiting. I'll bring you a candle, it's more romantic." Angelo said as he wandered off to get one for them.

"Sometimes you can't talk him out of anything." Sherlock said with a shake of his head as he led the way to the usual table he had and sat down.

"So, what do you mean for now?" John asked, a little smile playing on his face.

Sherlock looked a little uncomfortable as he said, "You never know what could happen in the future. I've told you more than I've told my own family."

John nodded, "I can see that. Well, lets see how things go."

Sherlock nodded as he then asked a question he was unsure if he wanted to know the answer of, "When are you going back?"

"In three days." He answered softly, "My leave is over then. I get shipped to Bastion for six months."

The younger man frowned a little as he said softly, "That's too soon, much too soon."

With a slight chuckle, John told him, "We could always call each other, skype occasionally and we can even write letters to each other, which are always nice to have. There are ways to keep in contact you know. A friendship doesn't have to end if you are willing to keep fighting for it."

Sherlock smiled a little, "You're right. We should make sure we have each others details."

John nodded as Angelo came back with a candle and set it between them and handed them each a menu. It didn't take them long to decided what they wanted and ordered their meal. They talked a little about their past as they waited for dinner to arrive.

"So why did you join the army?" Sherlock asked as the waiter left and he started to eat his meal.

"My grandfather was in the army, and my uncle joined them to become an army surgeon. They would always tell me stories and things about it. So I decided to follow them, I wanted to see what they saw, I knew I wouldn't see the same thing, but I still wanted to go. I became a doctor and joined the RAMC, and after my time was up with them I joined up as a combatant." John answered him smiling, "I now tell my own stories to him." He took a bite of food and swallowed, "So why a Consulting Detective instead of joining the police?" he then asked with a curious smile.

Sherlock snorted a little, "They are slow and incompetent, Lestrade is the best of a bad lot. He sees and observes, but it takes him a little longer to put it all together. Anderson, would be good if he paid attention to things instead of wild theories. Donovan needs to get rid of her prejudice against people that are different. She is constantly turned down for promotion because of it." he told John of those he worked with on occasions.

"Let me guess you told them this, but they ignored it?" John queried, eyebrow raised.

The younger man nodded, "All the time. Lestrade is one of only a few that will listen to what I say and take it on board."

The rest of dinner and desert went well, as the two shared a little more about themselves. It didn't take long for it to be time for John to head back to base. The two sat in companionable silence as they headed back to the base.

"Here," Sherlock said as he held out a card, "All my details." Sherlock then handed him a small pad and a pen.

John chuckled as he wrote down his own details, "I don't know how often I can call you and that, but I'll try my best to do it as often as I can." He said as the cab came to a stop and the two got out. "Writing is more reliable," he told him

"Then I shall write more often. Good night John." Sherlock smiled as he tucked away John's details.

"I had a good time, thank you," John nodded, "Night Sherlock." he smiled back.

Sherlock watched as John walked away. He got back in the cab and headed home with a smile on his face, he felt content. John watched it leave as he then walked into the barracks. Bill Murray rushed over to him and gave him a look.

"What's going on between you and that guy?" he asked softly, keeping his voice low, not wishing to disturb anyone else in the room, though no one was asleep just yet.

"I don't have a clue. But he is amazing and so different from anyone else I've had dinner with." John smiled as he walked away.

Bill shook his head as he watched his friend, "You are falling for this one and damn fast too." He chuckled as he followed John.

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**Thank you all for the reviews, hope you have enjoyed this story so far. I do hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


	7. Chapter 7

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**NaNoWriMo is almost here, around October I go into a state of hiatus until December. I will be posting until the 1st October, and won't be posting again until the 10th December.**

**Thanks go to Kizzia for the information about the Army, if anything is wrong, then that on me.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Seven**

It was three days later and John stood in the airport looking at the soldiers he was shipping out with. They were heading back to Camp Bastion, where some would be taken to other bases and the front lines. The three-week leave was normally long enough for John. Now that he had met Sherlock, he actually wanted a longer leave. It was just too short, as he wanted more time to get to know the young genius that he had met. John yawned a little as he sat back in one of the uncomfortable metal mesh chairs.

"Shouldn't have stayed up talking to your new boyfriend on the phone." Came Bill's smug and teasing tone.

John looked over to him and glared, "He isn't my boyfriend, he's a friend." He protested a little.

Bill shook his head, "You are seriously in the river."

"What?" John puzzled, a frown on his face.

"Denial." Bill sang as he chuckled shaking his head.

John huffed a little as he told his friend, "We're friends at the moment, but if it leads to anywhere, then that is fine with me." He couldn't help the little smile that made its way onto his face at the end.

Bill was about to say something more when someone called out John's name.

John moved and looked around, smiling when he saw Sherlock, "Sherlock, what are you dong here?" John said as he stood before his new friend, "You're not supposed to be here," he scolded, shaking his head at the man.

"It wasn't hard to bluff my way in." Sherlock smirked.

John shook his head and sighed, "Not good Sherlock."

"I wanted to say goodbye to you." Sherlock almost mumbled, a little embarrassed, "I didn't like the thought that I wouldn't see you for a while."

John smiled, "Glad you decided to come, even if you do get in trouble for this," he said softly, "If you ever need me, email me. We sometimes get the chance to go on for a bit each day. Depends on where we are and what's going on. Sending letters are best."

"I would like that." Sherlock smiled back.

"Good, I'll try and see about sending you an email when I land over there. Let you know how it went." John smile back, he could see the slightly hint of worry in his friends eyes.

"I would appreciate that." Sherlock nodded to him.

John smiled, "I've not had someone see me off before." it was tinged with sadness.

Sherlock frowned, "What? Why has no one come to see you off?"

"My Uncle and grandfather live up north, but of a journey for them. My sister doesn't like the fact that I'm in the army at all. She's scared for me, I know that." He smiled a little, "As for my parents, well they died when I was young." He gave a small shrug, not knowing what to say and not wishing to go into details.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Sherlock said softly, a little uncomfortable.

"John, we've got to go!" Bill called to his friend before he could say anything else to Sherlock.

John turned and nodded, "Sorry Sherlock," he said as he looked back to his new friend, "looks like I have to go, take care of yourself all right. Make sure to eat and sleep a little more."

Sherlock looked uncomfortable again for a moment before he quickly hugged John, surprising the other man as he let go just as fast as he had taken hold of him. "Do take care of yourself as well. I shall try and do as advised by my doctor." He smirked a little.

John chuckled, "I will do my best to keep safe. See you soon Sherlock."

With that John jogged to catch up with the others as Sherlock watched him go. He went over to the window and looked to the military plane that would take John away from him.

"I will make sure that the two of you will be able to reach each other when you need to." Came a voice from behind him.

Sherlock shook his head a little as he turned to see Mycroft coming to stand beside him, "And why would you do that?"

Mycroft looked from the airplane that would take John away, and glanced towards his little brother, "For the very first time you have opened up to someone. You have shown an interest in another person. I do not remember the last time that you have done such a thing. I can't help but want to make sure that you will always be able to talk to John. He has brought a side of you out that I thought was lost when you were a child." He said softly, his mind drifting over memories of their childhood.

"There is something special about him." Sherlock said as he looked back to the plane. "When I first saw him it was as though he lit up the room. He came with me on a case and he actually helped. He actually thought of something that helped me figure it out." He said softly, in awe.

Mycroft smiled at the rare show of emotion on Sherlock's face, "Then I will be doing everything in my power to make sure that you will be able to talk to him. Any time that you need that I will do all I can to make sure that I arrange it."

Sherlock looked to him and nodded, "Thank you Mycroft." He said as he then turned around and walked away. He couldn't deal with the thought of watching the plane take off and take someone away from him.

Mycroft watched him go, in shock a little. It had been the first time in a very long time that Sherlock had thanked him for interfering. "Maybe John was right, maybe I do need to back off a little." He sighed.

"What are your orders concerning the situation sir?" came a stronger feminine voice from behind him.

"Make sure a tight eye is kept on John Watson. If anything happens to him I want to be notified straight away. If anything is put on file for him, I want to know about it as well." Mycroft said as he looked to the plane one last time.

"Very well sir." She nodded as she made a note on her phone.

"I wish you well John Watson," he murmured, "Do keep yourself safe. I do not wish to be the one to tell Sherlock if something were to happen to you." He added, hoping that he would never have to do such a thing.

With that, he turned around and left the airport, heading back to his office. His assistant following loyally behind him.

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**Well, another chapter for you all. I do hope you have enjoyed it. Thank you for the reviews so far. I adore them. More to come soon!**


	8. Chapter 8

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**NaNoWriMo is almost here; around October I go into a state of hiatus until December. I try and make one last post on the 1st October, no promises now. I will not be posting again until the 10th December.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Eight**

John sat down at the laptop that had been set up in one of the many tents around Camp Bastion. It would be the first chance he would have to E-mail Sherlock since he had arrived two days ago. John couldn't help but wonder how the other man was doing. John smiled as he logged into his email account and began to type an email.

_Hey Sherlock_

_How are things in London? As you might have guessed it's hot here. But I'm used to it these days. I'm no longer used to the cold of London. We got in safe and sound, and I will be at Camp Bastion until my next leave, unless my unit is needed elsewhere. I should be able to get a few minutes online on occasions. I will be writing longer letters to you later on. Telling you a lot more, since I can spend a lot more time on it. _

_How are you Sherlock? Keeping well I hope. Make sure that you eat and that you sleep a little more than you said you do. It's important to make sure that you keep your body well rested and fed, it will help you a lot more you know. Especially if you go running off as I heard you do. Oh yes, I've had quiet the talk with the police officer that came down to take my statement. He told me that you are always running off. He said he heard it off of DI Lestrade, who you said you worked with most of the time. When you ran off on me in Murray's house, I was worried about you. Who knows what could have happened if I hadn't been there._

_Anyway, sorry for the rant. I just worry about you. What are you doing at the moment? Any cases at all? Or are you doing some more experiments and if so tell me about them._

_And do tell me what the weather is like back there, I tend to miss it when I am here. Even if I don't enjoy the cold anymore, I do miss London. Hopefully the next time I email you, I'll be able to tell you when I can get time to Skype or call you. And look out for my letter; it usually takes around a week. And I'll be sending it in around two days._

_See you soon _

_John_

John clicked the send button as someone called his name. "Coming," he wondered what type of emergency they were calling for him now. He just hoped he would be able to help. It would be another few days before he started to go out on patrol again. For now he would help out in medical.

XxXxX

Sherlock sighed as he checked his emails, going through the few cases that had been sent to him. He didn't even need to leave his flat to solve them as he sent off his conclusions. His face lit up and he smiled as he saw an email from John waiting in his inbox. He read through it and smiled.

_Dear John_

_It's good to hear that you are safe. I have to admit that I do not like the thought of you being out there, though I know you must. But do be careful, I do not wish for my brother to inform me that something has happened to you. I shall not be happy._

_For myself, I am bored, so bored. I solved a case for Gregson yesterday. He and Lestrade have a little rival going with each other. They are always trying to get one over the other. It can be amusing to watch if I mention the other to one of them. When you come back, I shall have to introduce them to you. I wonder what they will think of you._

_I was checking my emails, when I came across yours. I went through them and came across two very small cases, not really worth my time, but they gave me something to do for a few minutes. And they pay the bills. Some pay me well on occasions, and others don't pay at all. They were not even worth the time I spent on them to be honest. They bore me. I am hoping that I may have something from Lestrade or Gregson soon. I need something to really stimulate my mind._

_Yesterday was very tedious. I have this neighbour, and she is always trying to bring things over for me to eat and drink, things like that. I can not help but cringe every time I see her. I have tried to get it through to her that I am not interested at all. But she is not taking it on board at all. I do not know what I should do next. If you have anything that I might be able to use to get her off my back I would be forever grateful._

_I shall have to leave, just received a text from Lestrade, they have a nice serial killer on the loose. Love those, always something to look forward to._

_Do take care of yourself, and yes, do email me with a time to talk to you. I find I am missing your voice._

_Sherlock_

_S_herlock clicked on the send button as he then got up and pulled on his coat. He shut down the laptop and headed out of the door. Avoiding his neighbour, but only just as she had popped her head out of her door just as he went down the stairs. He just hoped that this would be a good case and that he could tell John about it when he got home and it was solved.

XxXxX

John chuckled as he read the email that had been sent to him a week ago. He looked at the slip of paper he had been given which had a time and date for him to Skype with Sherlock.

_Hey Sherlock_

_Thanks for the details on the case, sounds really interesting. Sorry it took a while to get back to you. Just returned from patrol and was given ten minutes to check emails and send any I need to. Hope you got my letter. Will be sending you another one in a few days._

_Right, I have been given a date and time for our skype call. The only reason I would miss this is if we are called out on patrol, which we shouldn't. Or there is an emergency on base. I am a surgeon and will occasionally get called to help out, even though I'm Army these days and not RAMC, but I do like to help out where I can._

_Right it's on the 14th March, at 2:30pm your time. So I shall be able to talk to you then. Take care of yourself Sherlock. And don't forget to email me when you need me. And thank you for the letter as well as the picture of London. Just where were you standing when you took that one?_

_John_

Sherlock smiled when he read the email. It was only going to be a week till be would be able to talk to John. Sherlock really wanted to tell John about the case he had just solved for Gregson. It was an interesting burglary. He was already compiling another letter for John, along with a few more pictures of London. He had even decided to send a picture of Lestrade and Gregson. It would be better for John to know what they look like. He also picked out a book he thought John might like reading, he was sending it along with the letter as well.

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**Thank you all for reading so far. I do hope you are continuing to enjoy it. Thank you for the wonderful reviews. You guys are great.**


	9. Chapter 9

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Sorry for taking a while to get this up. Been so busy, have to make a blanket for my nan for Christmas and Am going to be posting a Story for the 00Q reverse Big Bang tomorrow sometime.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Nine**

Sherlock was nervous as he looked to his laptop screen making sure everything was ready. He checked the clock once again as there was still a few minutes left before it was half two. He huffed as he stood up and went to the small kitchenette and started to make himself some tea. He heard a loud beep from his computer and he rushed over, leaving the kettle to boil as he sat down in front of his laptop and accepted the call from John.

"Hey Sherlock," John greeted a wide smile on his face, eyes happy to see his friend.

"You look rather more tanned than when you left," Sherlock observed. He was checking what he could see of John, to make sure he was all right.

John laughed as he shook his head, "That's what the sun does to you when you go out in it for too long. Don't know if you've had the chance to be out in the sun over there yet. Last I heard about London's weather was that there was some Thunderstorms going on."

"I would say the storms are all done with. Wasn't much of anything. It has been a little warmer than normal at this time of year though. We're going through a small heat wave." He told his friend, a soft smile on his face.

"So you might get some sun then." He grinned, as he looked to the pale man on his screen, "You need it."

Sherlock shook his head as he gave a small snort, "I spend most of my time chasing the criminals of London, working in a lab or messing around in my kitchen with experiments. So I wouldn't count on it."

John chuckled softly as he suggested, "Do try to though."

Sherlock nodded as he then asked, "Are you all right?" wanting to know that his friend was really all right.

John smiled, "Yeah, I'm fine." He looked a little melancholy as he added, "We lost a man yesterday out on patrol. We were ambushed. But the rest of us escaped with only minor cuts and bruises."

Sherlock sighed in relief that John was all right, but said, "I'm sorry that you lost a man."

"Same, he was supposed to be getting married next time he was on leave." John said. He hated it when someone who had something to look forwards to going home for was killed. It was like someone had kicked him in the stomach. He shook his head a little as he then asked, "So, did my advice help with your neighbour?" he asked, changing the subject not wishing to go through it again.

Sherlock smirked, "Yes it did, and it worked rather well."

"Good." John smiled back. There was a slightly possessive tone to his voice as he spoke, but Sherlock ignored it.

"Telling her I had a boyfriend worked quiet well. She actually looked rather disgusted with me. I couldn't help the smirk I gave her as I walked away." Sherlock grinned enjoying the annoying woman's reaction to what he had told her.

"Well, that's one problem sorted." He nodded, "Oh and that reminds me. I've been sending letters to my Uncle and Grandfather. For some reason they have asked me to ask you if you wouldn't mind meeting them. I've mentioned you a few times in my letters and calls to them and they are rather keen to meet you." John then added, wondering a little as to why the two wanted to meet his new friend.

Sherlock thought for a moment, John had met his brother, so it might not be a bad idea for him to meet John's family. After all they couldn't be as annoying as Mycroft, "I wouldn't mind that at all." he answered the query.

John smiled, "I'll send their address and phone number in an email so you can contact the. Though I will be trying to call them tomorrow and tell them that you have them so wait until after then to call them. Don't want to shock them too badly." he chuckled a little

"Okay, I'll give them a call on Monday, after the weekend." Sherlock nodded, smiling a little.

"Don't worry, they aren't scary at all. My Uncle Jonathan, is great, he is the one that got me interested in Medicine. My Grandfather Hamish was the one that got me interested in the army. My parents died when I was young, so I was sent to live with my uncle before I went to university. My Grandfather lived close, so I was always between the two of them." John smiled in memory.

"Tell me more about them?" Sherlock asked him, wondering what put the smile on his face.

"My Uncle, before my parents died." He began as he carried on softly, "He took me in over the summer holidays the once, I was twelve, just about to do my third year at secondary school, had my choices coming up. He took me to his surgery and he told his patients that I would be with him, and if they wanted me to go they could ask. None did and I learned what my uncle did. I found it fascinating, and for the rest of the two weeks I went with him and learned even more. On my last day he asked me to help him, and I had to try and diagnose some of his patients. They were quiet happy with me doing so, I think some of them found it cute. And when I got it right. I was really happy. I know it sounds stupid now. But it was a really nice time for me. I knew what I wanted to do after that." He told him, still smiling at the fond memories that were brought up.

"It doesn't sound stupid, it sounds to me like you found your calling in life early, and that is something I would treasure." Sherlock smiled to him.

John chuckled and nodded, "Thanks." He opened his mouth to say something more, but was cut off when someone called to him. John nodded his head and smiled to Sherlock, "Well, looks like my time 's up. I'll email you and tell you when I'll be able to talk to you again. Be careful Sherlock, and make sure to eat and take care of yourself. Don't go running off into danger too much."

Sherlock nodded, "I will try, and make sure that you do the same. I don't want to hear something has happened to you. And I will make sure to call your Uncle and Grandfather."

"Good, bye Sherlock, take care." John smiled happily.

"Bye John," Sherlock smiled back as the connection blinked out and the call was ended.

Sherlock sighed as he got up and finished making the tea he had started before the call. He felt a little nervous about calling John's uncle and grandfather, they sounded as though they truly cared about his friend. He hoped that they would be all right with him being friends with John. He sighed as he sat down in front of his experiment and put it out of his mind for a while, reminding himself to think on it later.

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**So happy that you are enjoying this fic. You are all wonderful! Hope you have enjoyed this new chapter!**


	10. Chapter 10

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Hope you had a wonderful Holiday and a Happy New Year. I shall be going back to my normal schedule of updating once a week on a Wednesday.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Ten**

Sherlock took a breath as he got off the train at Whitby station. He looked around and spotted the cafe that he was to go and meet them in. John's Grandfather and Uncle would already be waiting since his train had been late leaving. He had sent a text to the Uncle, and had received a reply saying they would wait for him. Sherlock nodded and chastised himself for being so nervous, he had never been nervous before. But then again, he was meeting the family of a friend once again, last time it hadn't gone so well.

He walked in and looked around. He spotted them easily; the family resemblance to John was remarkable. He walked over and they looked up at him. Their smiles were just like Johns and he couldn't help but smile back. They had the same feel to them as John did, an air that put him at ease straight away.

"And you must be Sherlock," the younger of the two said as he stood up to shake his hand.

"Yes I am, and you must be Jonathan," he said as he took the hand and shook it. The grip was strong and warm.

"Right, sit, this is my father, Hamish." Jonathan introduced the two of them as they then shook hands.

"Not often someone has my grandson so fascinated that all his letters contain a mentioned. Hell, he has wrote a whole pages on you and what you have been doing," Hamish grinned to the younger man.

"Oh," Sherlock blinked, a little startled by the revelation.

"Don't you worry about that," Jonathan shook his head, still smiling, "Right, tea or are you a heathen and drink coffee?" he then asked as he stood back up.

"I'm a tea drinker, thank you," Sherlock nodded.

"Good to hear," Hamish grinned, "don't you worry about his teasing. He was like it when he was a lad, never grew out of it."

"I believe that John is much the same," Sherlock smiled, as he thought of the teasing tone of their phone and skype calls.

Hamish laughed, "Oh yes, got that from his uncle and father, they were both the same. Twins, Jonathan and Nathaniel, his father, were into everything as lads. John is just like them both," he said as his eyes went a little sad as he thought of John's father.

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but John has never mentioned what happened to his parents. He has only told me that they had died when he was young," Sherlock queried, wondering if Hamish would tell him.

"My brother and Rose were coming back from a night out, a drunk driver hit their car, making it spin. It hit a tree. Rose died instantly, but my brother, Nate, he held on for a good three weeks before he passed away. He was able to talk to both John and Harry, who was living in Surrey at the time. He was only conscious twice after the crash, but he fought to try and be with those kids. Harry may have been living away from home, but she came back often. She took to drink not long after. John came to live with me afterwards." Jonathan said as he sat down and placed a cup of tea in front of Sherlock, along with some sugar and milk.

"Thank you," he said with a nod to the tea, "I'm sorry for your loss. I can see that John still thinks of them, and I can see that it still pains him. Though I believe it pains you all."

Hamish nodded, "It does, especially with how we lost them both. Harry didn't cope well, still doesn't. John had a rough time of things for a while, but he soon pulled himself up and carried on, he said he wanted to make them proud, and he couldn't do that while he wallowed in self-pity. I don't know about them, but I know I am proud of my boy."

"They would be really proud of him. They supported his choice of becoming a doctor. His mother, Rose, would be upset that he is in danger in Afghanistan, but they would understand." Jonathan smiled as he sorted out the milk and sugar for his tea.

Sherlock nodded, "He is different from others I have met." He smiled softly as he added a little milk.

"Why do you say that?" Hamish asked him, a little curious, he had heard about Sherlock's talents, but it was obvious that he was a little nervous.

"He didn't tell me to piss off, most do. They hear and see what I can do and they dislike me because of it, John didn't. He said it was brilliant and amazing. Though I personally believe he is the amazing one," Sherlock looked to him, the soft smile still on his face.

"I have heard from my nephew about what you can do. And I believe him when he says that it is amazing, it must be. He has told us that you solve crimes using your ability, which to me is a wonderful thing to do. You use what you know to help others. In a way that a doctor uses their ability to see and observe what is going on with a patient to find out what is wrong and to help them heal," Jonathan said with a smile.

Sherlock frowned, "I have never thought of it like that before. I do what I do because otherwise I would be bored."

Hamish chuckled, "If that was the case then you would take everything around you. I heard that you are picky. You chose the difficult ones, ones that no one else would be able to solve without your help. The others will be solved by the police, eventually."

"So while you say you do it to stop being bored, you do it because you can help the more difficult ones." Jonathan grinned seeing what most didn't care to.

Sherlock nodded and drank his tea, they continued to talk. The two men learning a little more each time about the younger man that sat before them. The one that had fascinated their nephew and grandson since their first meeting.

It was almost three hours later that Sherlock stood on the platform, getting aboard the train back to London, as Jonathan called out, "Now don't be a stranger. If you want to get away for a few day, away from the criminals. Or if you're hurt. Don't forget to call us. We want to know you're all right."

Sherlock looked to him and then smiled, "Your nephew is just like you, caring about other. I will do my best," he nodded as the door closed and the train soon left. Leaving the two men to smile to each other and then leave, both thinking the same, there was something going on between John and Sherlock, and neither saw it yet.

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**Thank you all for the brilliant reviews, you are all awesome! Hope you have enjoyed this chapter.**


	11. Chapter 11

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Sorry for not posting, but last week my sister-in-law gave birth to my niece so I have been a little bust with family. Back to normal next week.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Eleven**

Sherlock sat down, it had been three weeks since he had met Jonathan and Hamish. He had started to talk to them at least twice a week. They had become like family to him already, he was surprised to learn that he could open up to them just as easily as he did to John. He quickly typed an email to John and clicked send before he picked up his phone to call Jonathan, who had asked him to do so today, though why he didn't know.

_Dear John_

_I am glad to hear that you are well. It was also nice talking to you last week again. I do miss your voice. You Uncle and Grandfather have taken to calling me quite often. I have told them about my drug use, and they are much like you. Don't want me to even think about doing it again. Though they have told me that if I am ever tempted to call them, no matter the time. They are not over bearing like my own family. I envy you._

_I shall have to leave it at that for now, as I am to call your Uncle Jonathan, who has insisted I call him Uncle John. I am still unsure if I should do that. I have told you this before, when we talked, but you laughed and shook your head. Was that you way of saying it was all right to do so?_

_Right, need to say good-bye, or I shall waffle on all day. I do hope that you are all right. Please take care of yourself John. I find that I am missing your company, which is odd as we only spent a day together._

_Yours Sherlock._

John sat down when he had a few minutes and checked his emails. He grinned as he saw that he had one from Sherlock. He clicked on it and began to read it. His face twitched a little in an attempt to smile. John sighed as he started to write one back.

_Dear Sherlock_

_It was wonderful to talk to you again. Don't know when I will have the time to do so again. Though at this moment in time I wish I could do so now. My Uncle and Grandfather always accept people as they are, and will help them if they want it. They can see what I see, someone that wants to stay clean and be able to help others. Don't envy me, as you have become part of the family according to my Uncle and Grandfather._

_I have no doubt about the reason as to why my Uncle wants you to call him. It's Granddads birthday soon. They normally have a meal with the family. My Aunt Angie and Uncle David, and my cousins, they live in Cornwall, so I didn't see them often, they usually go as well. My sister will be going too, she never misses. I think Uncle John wants you to go as well. You have been adopted into the Watson Family._

_I know this is going to change the tone of this email, but I need to talk to someone who isn't here. We were out on patrol two days ago. IED went off nearby. Gavin was killed, he was younger that me. I hate it when someone so young dies, he wasn't even twenty yet. Sorry Sherlock, I know you worry. I'm fine, just needed to talk to someone. The communication blackout ended a few hours ago, so we could all have a little time to talk and hear about home._

_Always, John._

Sherlock smiled as he got off the phone to Uncle John, being convinced to call him that, and went back to his laptop that had dinged ten minutes ago. He looked to the clock and frowned when he saw that he had been on the phone for over an hour. Sherlock smiled freely when he clicked on John's email. He was happy that the other was able to get back to him so quickly, he normally had to wait two or three days before a reply would come through. He began to read and his smile started to drop as he came to the end of it.

He jumped up and grabbed his phone and dialled a familiar number, "Mycroft. I want you to get me to talk to John. I need to talk to him."

"Is something wrong? Nothing has been noted as to have happened to him. There was a death in his unit though," Mycroft asked, a little curious as he started getting things connected.

"Yes, but it has upset John and I would like to speak to him and make sure he is all right," Sherlock said softly, a slight tinge of worry in his voice.

Mycroft sighed, "I am connecting you through. He should be called to answer in a moment."

"Thank you," Sherlock said sincerely.

"Your welcome," Mycroft told him, though Sherlock could hear the smile in his voice.

The phone clicked and it started to ring once again, "Hello?" came a familiar voice.

"John," Sherlock said softly, hearing the sadness in his friend's voice.

"Sher… how?" John said a little puzzled on how Sherlock could be speaking to him like this. It was a little odd for him to be called to the main office about a phone call.

"Mycroft," he said simply, "Now, how are you?" he asked, worry entering his voice once more.

"I'm all right. Mostly just a little shocked. Usually am for a little while after something like this. We wont be back on patrol for a little while. We'll be given other duties for a bit. Make sure that we are all right mentally. As well as that we will be getting someone else into our unit," John told him, a slight smile in his voice. He was enjoying hearing his friends voice.

"Good, I worry John, and I miss having you close. Do please take care of yourself," Sherlock said softly.

"I will, and I miss you as well. You've come to mean a lot to me, even though we've only spent such a short time with each other, but it feels a lot longer," he said softly.

"I know. I feel the same. Take care John," Sherlock said softly.

"I will, and you as well. Make sure to say Happy Birthday to Granddad when you see him," John told him.

Sherlock chuckled, "I will. Bye John."

"Bye Sherlock," he said back a sad note in his voice at having to say bye.

With that the line when down and Mycroft came back, "If you want to talk to him again because of something, don't hesitate Sherlock. Take care little brother." With that the line went dead and Sherlock put away the phone as he started to think of the upcoming birthday and what he should get for the seventy year old. He may have to email John for a few ideas, as well as get something from John for his Granddad.

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**Thank you all for reading so far, so happy that you are enjoying it. Thank you for the reviews, you guys are the best. Well, hope you have enjoyed this chapter!**


	12. Chapter 12

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Twelve**

Sherlock paced a little in Lestrade's office. He had sent an email to John around two hours ago, he hoped he would be able to get an answer back soon. He was hoping that the answer would be what he wanted and that he would be able to tell Lestrade that the murder was the brother and not the husband.

"Will you stop pacing," Lestrade said as he watched him make another turn. "Honestly, who ever this bloke is, I don't think much about him being able to answer you at all."

Sherlock turned to Lestrade as he said, "John may well be doing something important," he worried a little as he started to pace once again. His mind beginning to go through the worst scenarios that it could come up with as to why John was taking so long.

Lestrade frowned, "Tell me about him?" he asked, wanting to make sure that this friend that Sherlock had been talking to wasn't just in his head.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, as he could see what Lestrade was doing, "John is a Captain in the Army, over in Afghanistan. I met him during the Murray case. He is the one that helped me. I have asked him about the medicine, because I trust his opinion more than those of your incompetent scientists."

The Detective Inspector nodded, "All right," he said as he paused for a moment as he then added, "I just worry about you Sherlock. Don't want to see you follow the wrong type again."

He rolled his eyes once again as he sat down on the chair, "Lestrade, John means a lot to me. We have talked as often as we can. I…" he paused as he tried to sort out exactly what he was feeling towards his friend.

Lestrade looked a little startled as he saw the mix of emotions on Sherlock's face, "You really do care about him," he paused and the said, "more than just care."

Sherlock jolted and looked up, "I do," he said simply, "there is something about him that drew me to him right from the start. And even with the distance, I am drawn even more to him."

Lestrade couldn't help the smile, "Good, you deserve to meet someone that will care about you. I hope he does."

Sherlock smiled, "He does. He is always on at me about eating more and sleeping more. Making sure that I don't go off on my own. He is trying to get your contact details from me. I believe he may contact my brother for it soon. He has already been able to get his," he said, a little huffy that John was getting along with his brother a little.

Lestrade laughed, "I don't mind him having them."

He nodded at the permission to give it out, "I will give it to him. I know he will mostly contact you about me going off on my own. He doesn't like it when I do that. He worries."

"And so he should, I worry and I'm here able to do something about it. He is half way across the globe and can't," he said with a snort.

Sherlock hummed a moment, "you are right."

"So…" he was about to say something when Sherlock's phone gave a little beep.

Sherlock grabbed his phone and opened the email it had just received.

_Hey Sherlock_

_Right, just a quick email to answer you question, I'll email you again later if I get the chance. Right, that medication would cause massive heart failure in large doses, in small doses it does help with a number of things. And it doesn't have that many side effects either. Make sure to email me about the case would love to hear. And make sure to take care of yourself. Right I've got to run, work!_

_John_

Sherlock grinned as he showed it to Lestrade, "So you arrest the brother. The husband was too shocked when he was told of his wife's problems, and it is only recently that she began the medication to help. He only came back half hours before she died. Not enough time to truly research the drug."

Lestrade nodded as he stood up and went to the door, "Donovan, get a warrant to arrest Steve Patricks," he said as the woman in question came to the office and inside.

"On what evidence?" she asked, wanting to know.

"John said that the medication that Amanda Patricks was on can cause massive heart failure in large doses, which is what she died of. Mathew Patricks didn't have enough time to find out about the medication she was on and what can be done with it," Sherlock answered her, typing away on his phone, sending a quick email back to John, with a promise to take care of himself.

Donovan looked sceptically as she asked, "You keep mentioning this John character, but I'm still not convinced that he is an actual person," she huffed a little as she walked out of the room to go and get the warrant.

"A lot of them are saying that," Lestrade said softly as he looked to Sherlock, who was now sitting down again.

"Idiots the lot of them. Those that don't know about him, must not remember the Murray case, which I did say to all that he was the one that helped me," he huffed a little as he pulled out his phone and sent off another text to John.

He chuckled as he went and sat behind his desk again, "Well, I for one am glad that he was there to help you. And even now," he smiled as he added, "And Sherlock, tell him how you feel. You never know. By what you say to me I think he cares about you as more than a friend, and if you are emailing him, send him my address and tell him to contact me. And my number as well, just in case. I would like to thank him," he didn't think he needed to add that he was going to be questioning John about Sherlock and what he felt for him. He didn't want to see the man hurt after all.

Sherlock looked up from his phone and nodded, "I will do so now," he then stood up and went to leave the room, "I shall leave you be, and do take it easy on John. He is, after all, in a war zone."

Lestrade shook his head as he watched Sherlock go, he hoped that John would contact him soon, he really wanted to know about the man that had been able to tame Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock himself had somewhere else to be, since he was going to a bit of a party in two days.

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**Thank you all for the reviews, I love you guys. I do hope that you have enjoyed this chapter, a couple more and they will be meeting once again!**


	13. Chapter 13

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Sorry for not updating for awhile, been going through a bit of a rough time recently. Things are now beginning to pick up and I am getting back into the swing of things.**

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**Fated Meeting**

**Chapter Thirteen**

Sherlock looked around the platform as he stepped off the train. He was to meet Jonathan, who would be picking him up soon. He moved down the platform and towards the exit. He smiled a little as he saw Jonathan walking towards him. He waved a hand and went over to him, a little nervous. He had been talking to John on Skype a coupe of days ago, the two had thought of something to get Hamish for his birthday, and had gone in together to buy it.

"Morning Sherlock," Jonathan greeted him with a smile as he went over to him.

"Morning," he greeted back, a slight smile on his face, though there was a feeling of nervousness within him. He was feeling a little out of his depth doing this, but John and Jonathan had both convinced him to go.

"Let's go," he grinned as he led the way out of the station and to his car.

Sherlock got in the car and looked out of the window as they went. He looked over to Jonathan and asked softly, "So how many are going to be there?"

"Just some of the close family. My sister and her husband, their three kids, and their kids. Oh, and my niece and her wife. So there will be around seventeen of us in total. Just a bit of a barbecue for us," he told him, smiling. He had been talking to John that morning, he wanted to wish his grandfather a happy birthday, since he wouldn't be there. He had told his Uncle that Sherlock was a little nervous about meeting the rest of his family and Jonathan had promised to watch over him.

"Right," Sherlock said, "I shall not be staying that long," he added. They went silent as Jonathan drove and then parked up at a small cottage. The two got out and went around the back, where everyone was gathered.

"Hello everyone," Jonathan said as he saw his family, "This is Sherlock, a very good friend of John's" he introduced the man to the others.

One by one the others all came up and said hello to him. Harry stood back for a moment, looking to the man that her brother had been talking about for the last several months. She went over to him, her wife walking beside her.

"So, I finally get to meet the man that my brother is always talking about when he calls home," she said as she smiled to him, "I'm Harry, and this is my wife Clara," she introduced herself and her partner.

"Hello," Clara said, a soft smile on her face as she looked Sherlock over.

"Nice to meet you both, John has mentioned you to me a few times," he said with a smile, though he was feeling a little overwhelmed with the amount of people coming to see him and talk to him.

"Good to know," Harry said with a nod and a smile on her face.

The three of them talked a little as Hamish made his way through the family, talking to them all and receiving his gifts. He wasn't the type to sit still, he rather be up and moving. Sherlock could see that John took after the man in more that just career choice.

"Sherlock," Hamish smiled as he reached the man and his granddaughter and her wife, "Harry, Carla, wonderful to see you all here. So glad that you could make it Sherlock," he told the man after hugging the two women and then did the same to Sherlock.

Sherlock was a little startled at the greeting as the man let him go and he smiled to Hamish, "I am glad that I could come," he said softly as Clara and Harry walked off to go and see some other family members.

"How was John when you talked to him?" he asked as Jonathan walked over to them.

"He was doing well when I talked to him yesterday," Sherlock answered as he nodded a greeting to Jonathan.

"He was this morning as well, talking about you again, and rather excited about the present that the two of you are giving me," he said, a grin on his face.

Sherlock chuckled lightly, "Yes," he said as he pulled out the wrapped present from a deep pocket and handed it over, "I do hope you like it," he said, feeling a little nervous once more. He had began to relax when he had started talking to the man, feeling comfortable around him, much like he had been with John.

Hamish took it, saying softly, "thank you," he opened it up and opened the box. He pulled out the strong gold chain and looked to the engraving on the back.

_To a wonderful Grandfather, love always John and Sherlock_

"A pocket watch, oh how wonderful," he exclaimed as he ran a finger over the words, "And some wonderful words as well," he smiled as he looked to Sherlock and gave him another hug.

"John had mentioned that you said your old one broke a few weeks ago. John knows that you love pocket watches and that you collect some of the older makes as well. Though you like to wear one," he said, still feeling nervous, wondering if it was all right to put his name on there as well. John had insisted, and now he was having second thoughts to doing so.

"Yes, it's wonderful, and thank you Sherlock," he smiled happily as he clipped it onto the waistcoat he was wearing and put it in his pocket.

"You're welcome, I'm happy that you like it," he smiled back.

Sherlock stayed a little longer, each of the family, coming to him and talking to him. Each of them wanted to know more about the man that John had begun to talk about in his letters home. Jonathan walked over to him as the sun began to set and smiled.

"Well," he said softly as he and Sherlock had said their goodbyes to the people that were left and went to the car, "Let's get you back on the train home, though you are welcome to remain the night," he said, hoping to get the young man to agree with him.

"Yes I know, and I thank you. But I do need to get home, Lestrade texted a little while ago, they have a case they would like me to look into," he said, already a little excited. Lestrade had sent him some of the information about the case, and it was rather interesting.

Jonathan smiled and took him to the station, he had heard from John what Sherlock did, and had talked with Sherlock about the cases he took part in at times as well. They were interesting, he just wished the man would take better care of himself. Jonathan dropped him off and watched as Sherlock ran for the train that had just pulled into the station. He watched as he went out, a smile on his face as he turned back to the car and got in.

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**Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter.**


	14. Chapter 14

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Fourteen**

Sherlock stood at the arrivals gate. John was finally home on leave and he couldn't wait to see him. He watched as soldiers came through and they all began to split up to see and be welcomed by their families. Sherlock smiled as he saw a familiar blond walk through. The man was tanned and smiling as he talked to the soldier that was walking beside him. For Sherlock it had been a very long six months since they had last seen each other face to face.

"John!" he called out as the man grinned and walked over to him.

"Sherlock," he greeted as he went over, "You still look thin, I told you to eat more," he admonished him gently.

"I know you did, and I am, I can't help that I have a very high metabolism." He huffed a little as the two of them stood a little awkwardly for a moment.

"Well, it's still good to see you. Are you sure it's all right for me to stay with you while on leave. I know you must have things to do, and I can always stay at the barracks again." John queried, worried that he would be over stepping his bounds a little.

"Not to worry John, I have been called back home, and I am hoping that you would come with me. Mummy wants to meet you, and since I have met your family, I would like you to meet them." He said, a little hopeful.

John looked a little unsure as he said, "Well, I don't have that much to wear that isn't army issue. Not like I can go and have fun out in the desert," he joked lightly.

Sherlock smiled, "Don't worry, I have already taken care of that and got a few things. My brother has sent a car for us and it is waiting for us. Please come."

John nodded and he took a breath, "All right. Lets go."

"Thank you," Sherlock smiled warmly as he led the way to a waiting car.

"What are your parents like?" John asked as they were seated in the car as it sped out of London.

"Mummy is bossy at times. But we love her, she always wants what is best for us, but she loves everyone. Father is laid back, though that wasn't always the case when I was younger. I was often in trouble for one thing or another." Sherlock answered him, "Things changed when I left, I fell into a bad crowd as you know. They worried, as did Mycroft," he told him quietly.

John nodded, "All right. Well, I'm looking forward to meeting them. One more question, will Mycroft be around?"

Sherlock nodded, "Yes, he likes to make sure things go well when I go home. After I got off the drugs, I had been rather mean to my parents about it all. Stupid I know. But I…" he trailed off with a small shrug, "The drugs had changed me for the worst," he confessed.

John nodded and smiled to him a little as he then yawned, "Oh, sorry," he said as he looked a little sheepish towards Sherlock, "been awake a while, couldn't sleep on the way over either."

"Then sleep, it will be a few hours before we get there." Sherlock told him softly, a smile on his face.

"No, I'll try and stay awake, wouldn't make a good impression if I arrive looking like a zombie because I decided to sleep." He shook his head, trying to clear it a little and wake himself up.

Sherlock went silent and watched John as he tried to fight off the sleep. He knew that if he remained quiet long enough John would eventually give into his body's demands and sleep. He smirked when he saw that he was right. The car turned a corner and John lurched forwards. Sherlock reached an arm out quickly and pulled him against him, settling John next to him, and making sure that he was secured, so he could sleep in peace without the worry of any harm.

"Sorry sir," the driver said as he glanced into the mirror to look at them.

"Just get us to my home safely and I suppose I shall be happy," he said quietly, not wishing to disturbed John at all.

Sherlock observed John as best as he could, to see what he could about his friend. The tan was stronger than it had been last time, showing that he was outside a lot more. There were calluses on his hand that showed he was using a gun more often. There had been a slight tightness about John when he had arrived as well, and he wondered what that was all about. Sherlock hoped that he would get the chance to talk to him before his parents and brother made things difficult as they usually did. It would be the second time he had brought someone home. He just hoped that it would go better this time. Victor had been the one to pull him towards the wrong crowd.

Sherlock passed the hours thinking about previous cases, and about the cold case that Lestrade had showed him a few days ago. He would rather be in London working on that than visiting home. But he knew that his brother would find a way to drag him there, most likely by kidnapping John. He knew his brother wasn't above that type of behaviour to get Sherlock to do as he wanted. He had kidnapped Lestrade a few times in the past, just to make sure that Sherlock was behaving.

"John," he called gently as he looked down at the blond head that was resting against him, "John," he called again, getting a soft murmured from the man, "We're almost there now John, you need to wake up," he told him softly, as he rubbed John's arm a little, his other hand taking hold of the hand that had fallen into his lap at some point during their journey.

"Sherlock?" he puzzled a little as he began to wake.

"Yes, we're in the car heading to my parents home," Sherlock told him, reminding him of where he was and what they were doing.

It was then that John realised where he was, he blushed a little as he sat up, "Sorry."

Sherlock chuckled, "Don't worry, it was rather comfortable."

John turned and looked to him, "comfortable enough for me to sleep," he joked, trying to make light of it, though there was still a slight hint of a blush on his cheeks.

He squeezed the hand that was still in his and he felt John begin to pull away, Sherlock tightened a moment stopping him. Sherlock didn't want to let go. He had missed John while he had been overseas. And while they had only spent a few hours together, it had been enough for a connection to form, and to deepen with their letters, emails and calls to each other over the last six months.

"Sherlock?" he queried looking up into the steely eyes.

"You don't need to pull away," he answered smiling at him softly.

John smiled and nodded as the car turned towards a country house down a small driveway. He left his hand where it was and leant against Sherlock lightly. Giving him time to move away if he wanted to.

"We're here," Sherlock told him a few minutes later. John nodded and gathering his courage to meet his friends' parents, though he had a feeling they would soon be more than just friends. He hoped that they might be more than just friends soon.

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**Thank you for the reviews, I love you guys so much. I do hope that you have enjoyed this chapter!**


	15. Chapter 15

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Sorry for not updating, I've been rather ill over the last two, almost three weeks. Now its Camp Nano and I am taking part once more. Writing Four fics this time. The Harsh Reality Sequel, A HP/S xover, and two Sherlock Fics. I am hoping to be able to update a few of the fics during April, but no promises on all of them.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Fifteen**

John stepped out of the car and looked to the Manor house that he was now standing outside of. The solider just looked around, feeling a little lost as to where he was. He had thought he would be spending the time at a flat in London, and instead Sherlock had brought him here to meet his parents. Sherlock looked over to him and smiled. Sherlock was happy that John was back, he didn't like the fact that he had been so far away, and he knew that the next time John went back it wouldn't be to Camp Bastion, he would be on the frontlines again, and the thought of John being there scared him. He had been tempted to ask Mycroft to do something that would keep him safe, but he knew that if John found out he would be angry with him and that was something he didn't want.

"Wow, you grew up here?" John asked as he turned to Sherlock and smiled, blushing a little when he noticed the intense stare that was aimed his way.

"Yes, both Mycroft and I was born in the manor, neither of us were born in a hospital, mummy insisted on it." He said as he led the way to the large double front doors that were opened and a greying woman almost burst out and towards them.

"Sherlock!" she called, a bright smile on her face as she went down the steps at a fast pace and wrapped her arms around her youngest son. John watched, a smile on his face as Sherlock wrapped his own arms around her for a quick second and then stopped. "Wonderful to see you back home." She smiled to him, "I have missed you my little boy."

"I am hardly a little boy Mummy," he said to her a soft, a soft small smile on his face.

"You will always be my little boy." She told him as she turned to the front door as her husband walked out of it, Mycroft beside him. Both of them walking at a much slower pace than Mummy had done.

"Glad you could make it Sherlock," his father said a gentle smile on his face as he walked down the steps and looked to John who was looked at the family reunion with a soft smile on his face. "And you must be Captain Watson or would you prefer Doctor Watson?" he asked as he came to a stop before the doctor.

"John is fine Mr Holmes." He said as he held his hand out.

"John, please call me Siger, and my wife is Viola." He smiled as he took the offered hand and shook it.

"Pleasure to meet you." He smiled as they were taken into the house.

Siger walked beside him, "I have never known my youngest to be so open with someone. Mycroft has told me that he has told you about his past with his addiction?" he queried, more for confirmation than anything else.

John nodded, "Yeah he did."

"Thank you, for not running when you heard, I know a number that have done so, which unfortunately does include some of our family." He said softly as he glanced back at where his youngest son was still being clutch tightly by his mother.

"How could I, he trapped me," John chuckled as he explained their first meeting and what they did.

Siger shook his head as they arrived in the living room, "That is just typical of my youngest. Have you met Mycroft by the way?" he wondered.

John laughed, causing the others in the room to look at them, "Yeah, we met, he took over my CO's office to have a chat."

"Well at least he didn't kidnap you and try and intimidate you." Siger said as he thought of the nice detective that Sherlock worked with on occasions, who had the unfortunate luck as to be kidnapped by Mycroft to make sure he would look after Sherlock.

"That I can imagine." John smiled as he remembered the meeting with Mycroft.

"Yes, he does have a habit of trying to take care of Sherlock. He has done it for so long, I don't know if we will ever be able to break it." Siger said as he smiled over to his eldest son.

"I only do it because Sherlock refuses to take care of himself." Mycroft said as he looked to his father and John, "Now why don't we show John around and where he will be staying for the next couple of weeks." He smiled, as though butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

"I will do that," Sherlock said he walked away from his mother and took John by the arm and almost dragged him out of the room, "Knowing Mycroft he will get lost." He huffed as the door closed behind them.

"I can walk Sherlock, you don't have to drag me," John said as Sherlock came to a stop and looked to him.

"Hmm, yes of course," he nodded, "I thought it would be best to get out of there before Mycroft started trying to detail everything about my past to you before I could talk with you about it," he said, "though you do know most of it already," he added, more as an after though, "He might even have a file on you by now. He would want to know all he could about you," he said as he looked down to John.

John snorted, "That I already imagined as soon as you told me about him and what he can do."

Sherlock shared a smile with him and snorted, "Yes, over protective and always sticking his nose in where it doesn't belong." He smiled as he then added, "Come, let me show you around, I have no doubt mummy will have dinner ready for us all by the time we get back to them."

John nodded as Sherlock grabbed his hand and led him through the house. Neither of them protesting it and both secretly enjoying the warmth the other gave off as Sherlock showed him as much of the manor as he could before it was dinnertime.

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**Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well!**


	16. Chapter 16

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Well Camp is over, and three out of four fics are finished, only three chapters to do for the other one. Two Sherlock fics, one Sherlock/Harry Potter crossover and Harsh Reality Sequel, just have to get someone to read through for plot holes.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Sixteen**

John was sat on one of the comfortable chairs in the Holmes family library. He was taking the rare moment of free time to catch up on a little light reading. Sherlock was with his mother and Mycroft had gone back to London for part of the day. This left John on his own for a while. He didn't mind, the family had welcomed him, even though Mycroft still tried to corner him and ask him as many questions as he could before Sherlock was able to rescued him.

The door to the library opened and Siger walked in. He smiled as he saw his son's friend, noting that he was more relaxed in the jeans and jumper that Sherlock had brought for him. He took in the man that his son had brought home. It had been a while since Sherlock had talked to anyone that wasn't family or wasn't for his work. But to bring someone back here, he never thought he would see the day when his son would.

"Oh, afternoon Siger, hope you don't mind me being here," John said as soon as he noticed the man standing there.

"Oh no, I don't mind, the library is a nice place to retreat to for a bit of peace and quiet," he smiled as he walked over and took one of the other chairs.

John chuckled a little, "yeah, I can imagine."

Siger looked to him and said bluntly, "You like my son don't you?"

John's blue eyes went wide at that as he spluttered a little, a flush creeping up his face, "Erm, I…" he said not knowing what he could say to that. He did like Sherlock, he had to admit that, even if it was only to himself.

The door opened once more as Sherlock bound in calling, "John!" he stopped as he saw the embarrassed look on his friends face and then looked to his father, "Father what have you done?" he asked him.

Siger smirked to his son as he stood up and headed out of the room saying, "I've done nothing but ask a simple question Sherlock," closing the door behind him.

Sherlock looked to his friend and his eyes lit up with understand, "Oh, he asked that," he said slowly, "So do you?"

John looked like a dear caught in the headlights of a car as he stood up and looked to him, "I do, but I wont let it change anything between us Sherlock. You mean a lot to me already. I would rather be your friend than nothing," he told him, hoping that he would say no more. He had enjoyed the letters, emails and calls from his friend, enjoyed them all that they had become his lifeline at times when things had gone bad in Afghanistan.

Sherlock smiled a little as he walked over to the nervous man and placed his hands on tense shoulders, "It's all right John," he said as he leaned a little closer and placed a sweet and gentle kiss on John's lips.

John blinked, startled as he looked to his friend as he pulled back, "Wha…?" he puzzled.

"I like you as well, and I wont let it change us, we will be more than just friends, and that I would love," he told him.

John smiled a little, "You really mean that don't you?"

"Yes John," Sherlock chuckled and shook his head, "In the short time that I have spent with you, you captured me, every time that we talked and wrote to each other I learnt a little more about you, but I haven't learnt everything about you. You fascinate me John, even from so far away just thinking of what you would say on occasions have helped me solve a case, you light my way and I want to have you beside me always."

John gave a startled laugh as he said, "I…" he gave a soft happy sigh, "I have to say the moment you told me to come with you, you got me. Taking me with you, it was exhilarating, I know it won't always be like that when I am on leave and spend time with you. But I don't care, talking with you, learning more about you, I don't think I could ever spend enough time with you. I care about you a damn lot, just hope you know that," he said with a shake of his head as he took hold of Sherlock's hands.

"Good, I feel the same," he said as he leaned down and captured John's lips with his and pulled the man closer. It was a few moments later that they broke the kiss and smiled to each other.

"Yes," came a voice from out in the hallways, "it worked!"

Sherlock gave a put upon sigh as he said, "my mother."

John looked a little embarrassed as Sherlock let him go and walked over to the door and opened it. His parents were standing there, not looked anything but happy as they walked into the room.

"Oh my little boy, all growing up," Mummy said with a happy smile as she walked over to John and hugged him, "he is perfect for you Sherlock," she said as she glanced over to her son.

"You planned this?" he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Of course she did," Siger said with a dry chuckle, "I was to time my arrival here and ask John the question and Viola was to send you to find him," he grinned as Viola went over to him and kissed him.

"And it worked, now, if only there was something I could do with Mycroft," she said with a huff.

Sherlock got a devious smile on his face, John saw it and shook his head, "Don't even think of it Sherlock."

Sherlock gave a pout but left it as Viola herded everyone out of the library and towards the dinning room, where dinner would be served in a few more moments. Sherlock and John held hands as they walked, feeling happy that things had turned out so well.

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**Thank you all for the brilliant reviews, you are awesome. I do hope that you have enjoyed this chapter as well!**


	17. Chapter 17

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Sorry for not updating last week, I've been ill once again with another cold and chest infection. My fifth cold for this year and my third chest infection.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Seventeen**

Sherlock held a basket in one hand as the other was clasped tightly in John's. The two were chuckling softly as they walked back towards the manor house. They had just shared a wonderful picnic together. Sherlock had taken him around the village for a little while and then to the places that he had hidden himself away when he was a child. They had ended up picnicking at once such place. Sherlock and told him a little more about how he was when he was young.

John couldn't help but laugh at some of the things that Sherlock had gotten up to when he was a child. He would have to ask Viola for some pictures of Sherlock when he went through his pirate phase when he was five and six. John had told him about his own childhood. He told him of some of the fond memories he had of his parents before their death.

"You're mother is wonderful," John said softly as they walked up the steps to the patio.

Sherlock nodded, "she is, though at one time I know that I hurt her deeply with my actions."

John looked to him, his eyes going soft and a gentle smile on his face, "I know, but you're back with them now, and while they worry and call, and try and control some things, Mycroft especially, it just means that they care and want to make sure that you stay safe," he told him.

"Mummy and Father are fine, they do call and talk to me as often as they can, at least twice a week, sometimes more. But it is Mycroft that gets me the most he will often interfere with things," he sighed a little.

"He cares and is very over protective of you, he was there seeing what you were going through and I have no doubt he is still scared for you," John chuckled a little, his voice soft and caring as well as understanding. He had heard things about Mycroft, though he hadn't seen a lot of what had gone on in the past.

Sherlock nodded, not seeing it from his brothers perspective before, "Right, I'll take this back to the kitchen, why don't you go to the living room and I shall meet you there in a moment," he suggested to John, a smile appearing on his face again.

"Watch a film?" John suggested back.

Sherlock grinned and nodded, "Why not, I'll get some popcorn and something for us to drink," he told him as John nodded in agreement. John watched Sherlock go towards the kitchen and then began to head towards the living room.

"What the…!" he yelled as someone grabbed an arm and pulled them into one of the rooms along the way.

"Since I can't actually take you else where at the moment, here will have to do," came a smooth voice as the light in the room went on and John looked around.

"Afternoon to you as well Mycroft," John smiled to his boyfriends brother.

"Dr Watson," Mycroft nodded his head, as he looked the man over.

John rolled his eyes, "Call me John, please, make me feel old at times you do," he snorted a little at the prim and proper attitude the man displayed.

"Very well, John," he said with a slight paused before his name, "I just want to talk to you about Sherlock and what your intentions are towards my little brother," he told him, his voice going low and almost dangerous as he looked to the man standing causally before him.

John looked to him, he could see the concern in the other mans eyes and shook his head, "Mycroft, don't do the menacing act with me, I can see past it already, I know that you are worried about things with me and Sherlock, but you don't need to be. God Mycroft, I feel like I have known him all my life and not only for the last few months," he said as he smiled and shook his head and looked to the man.

"Then I shall give you this, if I find out that you have hurt him, then there will be no place on this planet that you will be able to hide from me. I will find you and I will kill you, just be warned," he told him, his voice cold and deadly.

John looked to him, a small shiver of fear going through him, but not one bit of it showed, "I understand, the very thought of hurting Sherlock makes me want to throw up," he told him, "I care about him a lot…" he shook his head, "no, not just care, but I love him, I really do," he told him honestly.

Mycroft studied him, "Very well," he nodded at him.

John opened his mouth to say something when the door behind him banged open. The two looked to the door and John smiled.

"Mycroft," Sherlock almost growled at his brother as he walked into the room and took John's hand into his, "I would prefer it if you stay out of my business," he told him as he then pulled John out of the room.

John gave a little wave to Mycroft as the man watched them and shook his head. The Army Doctor could see a small smile on the man's lips as they left the room, "It was fine you know Sherlock," he said as he was able to walk beside his love instead of being dragged alone.

Sherlock stopped for a moment and looked to him, "I did tell you he liked to interfere," he sighed a little.

"He just wanted to make sure that I wasn't going to hurt you, like any older brother would do for a younger one, though don't expect the same from Harry, she'll just cackle and carry on the way she is," he told him with a shake of his head.

"He is a meddling brother, and I know he will do so for the rest of my life, he can not help but interfere with anything that I am doing," he huffed a little as they walked into the living room. The popcorn and drinks on the coffee table.

"So," John smiled as the two shared a small kiss, "what film should we watch?" he asked him.

Sherlock smiled and they began to argue about which film they would be watching, each of them smiling as they argued against one film and another. Laughing at some of the reasons they were giving, and just having a little fun with each, while they could, as John would soon be returning to duty in Afghanistan and this time he would be on the front lines.

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**Thank you all for the brilliant reviews, you are awesome. I do hope that you have enjoyed this chapter as well!**


	18. Chapter 18

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Chest infection gone, only a small cough left now, but on Monday, I had a bit of a fall and have now twisted my ankle, its been one of those weeks, lols.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Eighteen**

John put his bag into the back of the car and looked to Viola and Siger. He walked over to the woman and hugged her tightly. He had to admit that he was going to miss the two of them. Though plans had already been made for the next time he was on leave. His Uncle and Grandfather would be joining him at the manor house next time.

"Oh, you make sure to take care of yourself, I can always see if Mycroft can make sure you'll be safe," she told him softly as she almost clung to him, not wanting to let him go back into danger.

"Don't you dare," he told her, chuckling softly, "I'll be all right, so don't you worry," he reassured her softly as he placed a kiss on her cheek as he let her go.

"Do take care," Siger said as the two began to shake hands, only for Siger to pull him into a hug.

"I will," he said as he let go of Siger and shook Mycroft's hand as he then went over to the car, where Sherlock was waiting for him.

John gave one last look around, and smiled, he had enjoyed his time away, and he was sorry to leave. He looked to Sherlock and the two got in the car as the driver pulled out and began the journey back to London, where John would be going on a transport back to Afghanistan. The two were quiet for a while before Sherlock pulled him towards him and held him.

"I don't want you to go back," he murmured softly in John's ear.

"I know, but I have to and I want to," he paused for a moment as he added, "I'll be on the front lines this time," he told him softly.

Sherlock stiffened as he heard the words, "I thought you were just a simple army doctor?" he puzzled as he looked to him.

"I was, until about four years ago. I became a full combat soldier after some more training," he answered him.

Sherlock held him tightly, "What will it mean?" he asked, worry in his voice as well as fear beginning to enter it.

"Communications will be sporadic at best, I may only be able to get letters through to you every now and then, might take a week or two to reach you. Phone calls, skype and even emails may not happen often, or ever," he warned him, he turned a little and looked to him and saw the look on his boyfriends face, "I know, I hate the thought of not being able to talk to you all the time as well. But that's the way it is," he said softly.

"I…" he began, taking a breath and then starting again, "I just don't like it, what if I need to ask you something, or tell you something. What if you really need to talk to me, and you wont be able to," he said, almost panicking at the thought.

"I'll be all right, and you can write everything down, it might take a week or two to reach me, but it will in the end. And I know I will look forward to reading each and every single letter that you send me. Send me a care package every now and then, especially with a bit of tea," he chuckled, trying to keep things light between the two of them.

"Will you be all right to write back to me as well?" he couldn't help but ask, worried that he wouldn't be able to hear from John either.

"Yeah, I'll be able to, they will take just as long to get back to you as they do to me, so it could be a month before you hear anything form me," he told him, "but I promise to write once a week right form the start, and I will do so no mater when something comes to me. I've had to make the same promise to your parents as well," he chuckled lightly as he remembered how Viola had cornered him that morning and making him promise.

"Then I shall do the same, even if I haven't heard from you, I will write and tell you everything that is going on," he told him, his voice soft as the two of them settled against each other, trying to enjoy the last few moments they would have together.

XxXxX

Sherlock got out of the car first, as John got out the other side seconds later. The two were reluctant to part. John knew that this was how a lot of the men he worked with felt when they were leaving their loved ones behind. John grabbed his bag; the rest of his equipment would already be on the transport waiting for when he got to Afghanistan.

"John," Sherlock said as he walked with him.

John turned to look at him, the two of them stopping for a moment, "I know Sherlock, I really do know, but I have to go," he told him, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Is there any way?" he asked, he couldn't help it, he jut had to ask one more time.

John shook his head, "no there isn't, but Sherlock, I love what I do, I worked hard to get where I am and I can't just throw it away. I would love nothing more than to be with you all the time, but I…" he paused and sighed a little.

"I know John, I know," Sherlock sighed as he well as he pulled John close, "come on, or you will soon be reported as AWOL," he smiled, trying to put a brave face on things.

Over an hour later Sherlock was standing alone once more. Watching and waiting for the transport that carried John to lift off into the sky. Around him were the husbands, wives, girlfriends and boyfriends, as well as various members of the families of those that were leaving with John. He sighed once more as he watched the plane beginning its turn down the runway and began to lift into the sky. He watched until it was no longer in sight before he turned and headed back to the car, he felt alone and adrift once more without John beside him. But he knew that he would be back, and as soon as he returned to his parents home he would write something to John, he would spend another couple of days there and then go back home to London, and back to his work.

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**Thank you all for the brilliant reviews, you are awesome. I do hope that you have enjoyed this chapter as well!**


	19. Chapter 19

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Well, I have finally got back into the swing of things, don't know how long that will last. I've started plotting for Camp NaNo already, and I have Eight plots that I could write. One James Bond, One James Bond/Sherlock, Four Sherlock, and Two Star Trek 2009 fics. Way too many I know, but I love them all.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Nineteen**

John stretched a little as he walked over to his bunk. It had only been two months since he had returned and he had easily fallen back into the routine of going on patrol and helping out some of the people that he met. He sat down on his bunk and pulled out the small box from underneath. It contained all the letters that Sherlock had been sent him since he had returned, as well as a few from Viola. They were a wonderful remind of home and who was waiting for him. There was also the occasional care package that Viola would send him, along with the couple from Sherlock. He pulled out his notepad and pen and began to write a letter to Sherlock, as he had promised to do each week without fail.

_Sherlock_

_God, you have no idea how much I miss you, and while you told me about your latest case, there is nothing like having you tell me face to face. I can't wait until my next leave so I can see you again. I miss you so much._

_Things are normal, well as normal as they can be in a war zone. We've been fired upon a number of times, thankfully only minor injuries at the moment. Which is a good thing. Just hope it stays like that._

_How is London? What's the weather like? I hope you are all right Sherlock. I know, I know, you will tell me you are, otherwise I have no doubt that your brother would have seen fit to tell me. He has even written to me, which was rather scary, shocked the hell out of me when I got that letter. He wanted to make sure I was all right and to tell me that you ended up in hospital after a killer got to close, but that it was nothing serious and that you were released after a couple of hours. I told you, you need to wait for back up and not just rush off on your own. Now, make sure you follow that, and hopefully on my next leave I can meet with your friend Lestrade and make sure he does what he can to keep an eye on you._

_Be careful though Sherlock, I don't want to get another letter from your brother telling me that you have been hurt. I can't do anything where I am, and that worries me._

_Love you_

_John_

He finished writing and put it away, ready for when the next lot of letters would be taken. He sighed as he went out into the hot sun and went around, seeing if there was anything he could do before he turned in for the night, ready for his morning patrol.

XxXxX

Sherlock rolled over and jolted, as he landed on the floor after rolling over. He got up and looked around. He must have fallen asleep on the sofa again. He quickly got ready for the day as his mobile beeped at him a few times. He rushed to it and smiled happily, a new case at last. Sherlock pulled on his coat, as the weather was cold now that winter was here, and Christmas was around the corner. He needed to get something for John and get it sent out otherwise John wouldn't receive it on time. He stopped at the door as he saw a letter sitting on the mat. He smiled as he picked it up and put it in his pocket. Forgetting about it until the case was solved and he was sitting in Lestrade office, finishing up the last details as Lestrade questioned him a little.

"What's that?" Lestrade asked him as he looked curiously at the letter that Sherlock had taken out of his pocket and began to read.

Sherlock ignored him until he was finished, "A letter from John," he said softly as he pulled a piece of paper from the notebook that belonged to Lestrade and grabbed one of the pens as he began to write back.

"Ah," Lestrade said as he looked to the man that had began to write furiously on the page.

_John_

_It is wonderful to hear from you, as always. I have to admit that I love getting the letters from you, and I do wish we would be able to talk soon. I have missed hearing your voice. I have just finished a small case with Lestrade. I am actually writing this in his office. He wanted to talk to go over the last details and to question me about you. _

_Lestrade is the smartest out of the Yarder's, and you will see that when you have chance to meet in the future. The others do not believe you are actually real. They are idiots though, and I know you will deduce that as soon as you see them. And I have to admit, I do look forward to that day as I would love to see their faces when they meet you._

_Do be careful John, please be careful. I will do my best to do so as well. And yes, having my brother write to you is the stuff of nightmares. But at least I know he is making sure that you are kept informed about things if I forget to tell you something. I look forward to your next letter, make sure to stay safe._

_Love you John, always._

_Sherlock_

Sherlock sighed as he finished writing. He folded it up so that he would be able to send it as soon as he got out and found a Post Office. He looked up to see Lestrade watching him, "What?" he asked curiously.

"I've never seen you look so relaxed and free, you were smiling, a true smile on your face," he said, a small smile on his own, "It's just nice to see."

Sherlock nodded his head, "Don't expect it all the time," he told him as he then asked, "Do you need me for anything else?"

"No, you can go," he told him as he watched Sherlock stand up, "Hope your friend comes homes safe," he added.

"Not friend," Sherlock said as he began to head out of the door, "Boyfriend," he smirked a little as he saw the shocked look on Lestrade face. He couldn't help but laugh at it as he left New Scotland Yard and went to find the nearest Post Office. He sent off the letter and went back to his small flat.

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**Thank you all for the brilliant reviews, you are awesome. I do hope that you have enjoyed this chapter as well!**


	20. Chapter 20

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Well, when September arrives I will be posting four new fics. Two of my choosing, and two of yours, all you have to do is to go to my profile and use the poll, chose two out of the list.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Twenty**

Sherlock looked to Lestrade and sighed, "Really Lestrade, you should know better," he told him, a little smirk playing on his lips. He could see Donovan almost growling in the corner at him.

"Sherlock," Lestrade rolled his eyes as he carried on, "We don't have time to mess around, I need to know why you think it's him, or rather know it's his?" he asked as he looked up to the man.

Sherlock was about to say something when the door opened, causing all three in the room to look to it, "Mycroft," Sherlock said with a frown as he looked to his brother.

"Sherlock," Mycroft said as he walked into the room and ignored the other two.

Sherlock looked at his brother and knew, he knew in that moment that something had happened, "John?" was all he asked.

Mycroft nodded his head, "Yes, I got word half hour ago," he told him about to add more as he saw Sherlock began to fall. He rushed over to his brother as Lestrade did the same. Mycroft reached him first and guided him over to the sofa.

"Is…?" he began, but couldn't finish as the very thought of it broke him all the more.

"No," Mycroft told him softly, "he isn't dead, seriously injured though," he told him, "John's in critical condition at the moment, I've made arrangements for him to be flown back here as soon as he is stable enough, and taken to a private hospital here," he explained.

"What happened?" Sherlock asked, his voice soft, Lestrade and Donovan both listening to what was going on. Neither of them had seen Sherlock like this before.

"He was on patrol, his unit was ambushed. He saved the lives of three of his men before he was shot in the shoulder taking care of a fourth, while he was down he was hit again from what I have been able to read from the preliminary reports. They are operating at the moment, but he has lost a lot of blood," he answered him gently, feeling an ache in his chest as he gave his brother the truth.

Sherlock nodded his head, hearing what Mycroft wasn't telling him, "They don't think he'll make it do they?" he looked over to him, anguish in his steely eyes.

Mycroft shook his head, "No they don't, but we both know that John isn't the type to just lie down and die. He will fight because he'll want to come back to you. We'll get him back here and make sure he has the best medical care going," he promised his brother.

"All right," he nodded, "I need to contact Hamish and Jonathan," he said as he thought of John's family.

"I will be having someone go and see them, I don't think it would be good for them to be told in the usual way," he told him, a soft smile on his face. He had looked into John's family as soon as Sherlock had shown his interest in the soldier.

"Thank you, and you should get in contact with Harriett as well, she would want to know," he nodded as he began to go over all those that needed to be told that something had happened to John.

"I will take care of everything, don't worry Sherlock," he reassured him a gentle look on his face as he could see the worry and fear on Sherlock's.

"Thank you," he said as he looked to his brother.

"You are welcome," he smiled as he stood up, "I shall have a car sent to you, where ever you are, to come and take you to see him. I will be offering the same to Jonathan and Hamish as well."

"Not to Harry?" he asked, a little puzzled.

"She is the away at the moment, also John has you as his emergency contact, he took his sister off when he was here last, even talked to me to make sure that it would be fully legal. So you will be able to be with him, no matter what happened. He knows that you know him better and would be able to make the more informed choice, if the worst should happen," he told him as he began to head to the door, "I will send word as soon as he arrives," he added.

"I think I will leave," Sherlock said as he watched him go, no longer wishing to help Lestrade with his case. He stood up and then stopped for a moment as he turned to Lestrade and said, "The cousin did it as she was in love with her cousins wife, when she saw that he was harming his wife, she took steps to keep her safe. The wife was too scared to stand up to him. She doesn't know who the killer is," he told him and then left.

Lestrade sat there for a minute as he jumped up after Sherlock, not thinking it would be a good idea to leave the younger man alone. Donovan could do nothing more than to gape as she watched the two men leave.

"Sherlock," Lestrade said as he walked over to him, catching up with him before he went into the lift.

"What Lestrade, I have told you what you needed to arrest this killer," he told him, no hint of the confident man that had been in his office moments before.

"I know, I…" he sighed, trailing off, not really knowing what he should do, or even what he should say.

"I'm going home Lestrade," he told him as the doors to the lift opened.

"I know, I just don't think you should be on your own," he told him, "I know that you and John are very close, even with him over there, and I know we tell anyone who is your situation to be with someone," he told him.

At that moment Sherlock's phone began to ring. He answered it and talked to the other person. He gave a small smile as he ended the call, "I wont be alone, John's grandfather and uncle are heading to London now, I plan to meet with them and to wait for more news," he told him as the doors to the lift shut and left Lestrade standing there, a small smile on his own face as he realised that Sherlock had more people looking out for him since meeting John.

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**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, I do hope you enjoy this chapter. I am going to try and edit some of this ahead of time, so I might be able to post during October and November and beginning of December, while I do NaNoWriMo once more.**


	21. Chapter 21

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**You have one last week to vote for which two fics you would like to see in September, along with Harsh Reality Sequel and one of my choices.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Sherlock looked to Jonathan and Hamish, each of them were waiting for more news on John. John had arrived back in England a little over two hours ago, and Sherlock had hoped that someone would have come out to speak with them already. But so far, nothing, no word on how John was doing after the journey back. All three looked up as the door opened and one of the doctors walked through.

"Family of John Watson?" he called out, seeing that there were two others such families in the waiting area.

"Yes," Hamish said as he practically jumped up, and walked over to him. Sherlock and Jonathan both following him closely.

"All of you?" he asked as he looked between the three men.

"Yes," Hamish told him firmly, "Now can you please tell us how John is doing?" he asked him.

"Right, Mr Watson," he began only to be interrupted.

"It's either Captain or Doctor Watson," Sherlock told him.

"Yes," the doctor nodded, feeling a little nervous about the stare that the youngest of the three men were giving him, "Doctor Watson, the injury to his left shoulder is going to take a long time to recover from. He will need therapy to get anything close to full strength in it. A lot of the nerves and muscles in the area have been damaged, I don't think he will get one hundred percent movement back. The injury to his leg is not severe, and looks as though it will heal fully. Unfortunately on the flight over, he deteriorated, he has a high fever and trouble breathing, so much so that we have had to put him on a ventilator. We are treating him with a high dose of antibiotics, and keeping him sedated for now."

"Can we see him?" Sherlock asked him, shaking a little as he listened to the man explain about John's injuries.

"You can, but he will be unconscious for a while, he wont be awake. It would be best if you go home and rest yourselves. He will need you when he wakes up," the doctor told the three of them.

"We just want to sit with him for a while, we almost lost him," Hamish said softly.

The doctor nodded his head, "All right, I will let you spend some time with him, but only for a while. Let him rest and then leave so you can do the same," he told them all as he began to lead them to the room that John had been settled in. He turned to them as they reached the room, "Please don't be alarmed by his appearance or the machines and noise," he warned them as he then opened the door and let them in.

Sherlock and Jonathan grabbed Hamish as his steps faltered when he caught sight of his grandson, "Oh my boy," he said softly as he walked over to the bed and looked John over. The doctor watched them for a few moments and then left them alone.

"He'll be all right dad," Jonathan said as he stood beside his father, "he's not the type to give up, no matter what happens," he reassured him.

Hamish nodded as Sherlock slowly made his way over to the bed and looked down at John, "John," he whispered softly as he ran his fingers delicately over the hand without the IV attached to it.

The three men settled down to sit with the unconscious man for a while. Neither of them said anything, just watching John as he remained unconscious, each of them wishing that he wasn't.

XxXxX

John slowly began to wake, pain radiated through him as he shifted a little on the bed. He could hear voices around him as he slowly returned to consciousness.

"Come on John," came a smooth voice, almost pleading with him.

He blinked open his eyes and looked around, "Sher'ock?" he said, his throat sore and his mouth dry.

"Yes," the younger man said, a smile on his face as he grabbed the cup of ice chips and spooned a few into his mouth.

John sighed a little in relief as he let them melt, trying to think why Sherlock was there and what had happened to him. It took a few moments and he said, "I was shot?"

"Yes," came another voice as he came into view.

"Granddad?" he queried.

"Yes my boy," he sighed, happy that John was now awake. It have been a little over a week since John had arrived at the hospital, and over two days since he was breathing became strong enough for him to be taken off the ventilator. They had stopped the medication to keep him unconscious a day ago. He still had a fever, but it wasn't that high any more, the antibiotics were working well, "you're Uncle just stepped away to get us something to drink, he will be disappointed that he isn't here," he smiled, chuckling a little.

"But I am now," Jonathan said as he walked into the room once more, with three cups of tea.

"Hi," John said softly, smiling tiredly at his uncle as he walked towards the bed.

"You had us worried my boy," he said with a shake of his head, handing out the tea.

"Sorry," he murmured as he began to lose the fight on staying awake, "What's wrong?" he asked them all, forcing his eyes open.

"You were shot in your shoulder, have an infection as well, but that's mostly under control," Sherlock answered him, though he gave him no details, not yet. They all wanted to make sure he was a little stronger before they would have to say anything about his condition.

"Right," he murmured as his eyes closed slowly and remained that way as he went to sleep.

"He'll be all right," Hamish smiled softly as he sat back down.

"Yes," Sherlock nodded, though he had to wonder what John would be like when he learnt that he was being discharged from the army.

"He wont like it," Jonathan said as he looked to the other two, "He won't, but he'll be all right with you beside him," he said as he looked to Sherlock.

"I'll make sure of it," he promised with a nod as they settled down to wait for John to wake once more.

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**Thank you all for the brilliant reviews, you are awesome. I do hope that you have enjoyed this chapter as well!**


	22. Chapter 22

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Well new fics are now up. Sorry for not posting last week, I had a cold and migraine attack going on at the same time. I was only just able to post the Harsh Reality One Shot.**

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**Fated Meeting**

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Another week had gone by and finally John's fever had broken, he was beginning to heal. Sherlock stood beside his bedside once more. John had been staying awake more and more, and he had been asking about his injuries. All three men knew that they couldn't keep avoiding telling him what was wrong with him. Sherlock had volunteered to tell John, and Hamish had made sure that they would be alone for a while.

Harry had kicked up a little bit of a fuss, but Jonathan had taken his niece by the arm and forced her out of the room. The two men knew that John wouldn't want them all gathered around him when he was told. Sherlock almost jumped when he heard a mummer from the bed. John was waking up again, he stood up and went over to the bed and waited. John opened his eyes, smiling when he saw Sherlock. The two talked a little as John finished waking up.

"Sherlock," he said softly, calling the mans attention to himself.

"I know what you want to know John," he said, his voice just as soft.

"Then why wont you tell me?" he asked as Sherlock helped him to sit up, the bed ridden man had lost a lot of weight, and looked thin and weak, though Sherlock knew it wouldn't last for long.

"Because we wanted to you to be on the road to recovery before we told you," he answered honestly.

"Right, tell me?" he prodded a little.

Sherlock nodded his head as he sat on the edge of the bed, "There is a lot of damage to the nerves in your shoulder, you wont be able to get full movement back at all, maybe eighty to ninety percent, and at the most ninety five."

"Which means that I can't be in the army any more and I can't be a surgeon either," he said as he looked down the arm that was strapped up, to let the shoulder heal as best as it could with minimum movement.

"No, they have your discharge papers all ready for you," he said softly as he reached out a hand and took hold of John's free one.

"I…" he trailed off, not really knowing what he could said, "What do I do now Sherlock?" he asked him as he turned watery blue eyes to him, glad that his family wasn't there.

"For now, you are going to get better, and after that, we'll find something, and don't forget, I do need help on cases," he smiled to him, causing John to chuckled a little.

John nodded his head, "yeah," he said softly, knowing that Sherlock was right, he would have to take it one day at a time.

XxXxX

The doctor walked out of the hospital room and closed the door behind him. He had just told John the news that he would be able to leave the hospital in another week, he had been getting stronger and was now able to walk around, though he had started limping badly as if the injury to his thigh wasn't healing, though it was almost fully healed.

"Right," Harry said as she smiled to her brother, "you all right to stay with me and Clara?" she asked him, happy that her brother was getting better. She still hated the fact that she hadn't been there when he had first come home. Though she had gotten they very next flight she could, so she could be with her brother.

"No, he will be staying with me, the nice country air will do him some good," Hamish said as he looked to his grandson.

John looked to them all and shook his head, "no," he told them, but was ignored as his uncle started as well.

"No, he will be coming home with me," Jonathan said as he looked to them all.

It broke out into an argument over which of the three would take John home with them. Sherlock could see that John was beginning to lose his temper at them all, since none of them were listening to his protests. Sherlock met John eyes and the dark haired man nodded once as he saw the hope in his eyes.

"Quiet," Sherlock commanded as he could see what John wanted with that one glance.

"What?" Harry asked looking to the man as they all went quiet.

"Not one of you have asked John what he wants, I have, he will be staying with me," he told them all, taking hold of John's hand, who squeezed it.

"Are you sure John?" Hamish asked him, looking to his grandson once more and seeing that streak of independence and need for being seen as an equal and not someone that needed help.

"Yes Granddad, I am," he said as he looked to Sherlock, "I know that I'm going to need physio for a while to get back the strength in my arm. But I need to be able to do it without everyone crowding me, and I know Sherlock wont, he wont baby me like you are all planning on doing," he said with a small chuckle, "I need a kick up the arse sometimes, because I know I am going to mope around at times, and Sherlock will give me that," he told them.

They all nodded, "All right," Jonathan nodded his head.

John smiled to them all, "But you do have to come and see me on occasions," he added, making them all smile, "I do love you all, but I know what you're all like when something is wrong," he finished.

"I admit I did have a few plans," Hamish said a little smile on his face.

"See," John laughed, "Things will work out better this way."

They nodded and they settled down to talk about other things. Sherlock had a few plans, and one was to get John away so that he would be able to recover away from the city for a while, and he also wanted to see about a different flat, the place he was living in was not suited, but for now that could wait, as he joined in the conversation going on around him.

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**Thank you all for the brilliant reviews, you are awesome. I do hope that you have enjoyed this chapter as well!**

**I am going to be really busy over the next couple of weeks. I have Alcon starting Thursday, and then my Sisters wedding two weeks later.**


	23. Chapter 23

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Well, wedding over and now NaNoWriMo is about to start, be warned, I might not update each week during October and November. I am going to try and do so.**

**There are only two more chapters left for this fic!**

* * *

**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Twenty Three**

John smiled as he looked over to Sherlock, they would be leaving soon. Finally he would be able to get out of the hospital and to go home. John actually felt a little bad, as Sherlock had been there a lot during the time he had been there. Not really leaving that often. Sherlock smiled back at him and then frowned as his phone began to ring. He looked at it and gave a small sigh.

"Lestrade, you know I prefer it if you text me and not call me," he said.

"I know that, and at the moment I'm outside your apartment and there is a really nice notice to quit on the door for you," he said with a snort, "Looks like its been there for a week at least," he added.

"Right," Sherlock nodded as he began to think. Even though he had no intention of taking John back to that flat, he would now have to try and find another, when he wanted to concentrate on John for a little while.

"What are you going to do Sherlock?" he asked him.

Sherlock stood up and went to the other side of the room, "It's fine, I have somewhere to go for a while already. I am going out of London for a bit," he said quietly, not wishing John to over hear. He hadn't told him of the plan to go anywhere but his flat.

"Out of London?" Lestrade asked, shocked, in all the time that he had known Sherlock, the only time he was out of London was for a case or two.

"Yes," he said simply.

"All right, make sure you take care of yourself, and I look forward to seeing John one day soon. I can always stop by and give you some cold cases for when you go?" he suggested.

Sherlock almost smirked at the blatant attempt at coming to the hospital to see John for himself. The two had never gotten around to emailing or calling each other, "No, I wish to spend time with John while he is recovering," he told him.

"All right," Lestrade said, sighing a little, "I'll see you when you get back, and make sure that you do call me or text me to say that you are.

"Will do," he said as he then hung up the phone and walked back over to John.

"Is everything all right?" John asked him, as he watched Sherlock. He hadn't been able to hear what the other was talking about, but he had a feeling that something was going on, and he only had another two days left before he was allowed to go home.

"I am being evicted from my flat," Sherlock told him, a gentle smile on his face, "Not to worry," he said as he could see it in the blue eyes of his boyfriend, "I never intended for us to go back there. I am already looking into places where we could live," he told him.

"But…" he began but was cut off before he could say anything more.

"I was planning on telling you tomorrow, but oh well," he smiled, "My brother is kind enough to let us use his cottage for a couple of weeks. I thought it would be nice for us to go there and to get reacquainted with each other before life starts pushing in once again," he told him.

John smiled, "That sounds like a good idea," he told him, "Even though we have done nothing but talk about things since I woke up."

"I know, but we have had people in and out all the time," he smiled.

John smiled, "True," he said as he then asked, "So we'll be going to the cottage and then trying to find a place for us?"

Sherlock nodded, "I am having my brother gather all my things from there, putting them away until I find a new place."

"Don't you think you should actually call your brother to tell him that?" John chuckled lightly.

Sherlock nodded, "Yes, it might be a good idea," he pulled out his phone and then quickly sent off a text to Mycroft, "Done," he said as he put it away.

John laughed and shook his head, "A call would have been better Sherlock," he told him.

"Maybe, but if I call my brother he will keep me talking for too long," he told him.

John shook his head, "He cares about you and would like to know what you are doing half the time."

"Yes, but he has his spies for that," he told him as he went and sat down, "And Lestrade was trying to think of a way to come by and see you. I told him you could meet when we come back to London," he said as he leaned back in the chair.

"I wouldn't have minded if he wanted to come," John said softly.

"I know," Sherlock told him, "I thought it would be better to wait until we are settled in a new home," he smiled softly.

John looked to him and nodded, "yeah, you might be right."

Sherlock smiled and nodded, "Right, your grandfather should be here in around an hour, would you like to shower before then?" he asked him.

John smiled, "Yes, I feel sticky. I hate being in the hospital. This is the third time I have been shot badly enough for me to end up in hospital for more than a week," he said as he began to get off the bed.

Sherlock jumped up and went over to him and helped him, grabbing the cane that was resting against the wall nearby. Sherlock knew that John hated using it, but he also knew that it would be a while before John would be up to even thinking about running around. He knew he would be trying something to get John over the limp he had developed. Sherlock helped him to the shower, so he could clean up before his grandfather arrived.

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**Thank you all for the brilliant reviews, you are awesome. I do hope that you have enjoyed this chapter as well!**


	24. Chapter 24

**I don't own Sherlock, just having a little fun while I have the chance.**

**Sorry for taking so long, my laptop broke in November, and it only got fixed in January. Had a few other things going on, but now I am back. There is only one more chapter after this, an epilogue of sorts.**

**Thanks go to Madyamisam for editing this, any remaining mistakes are mine.**

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**Chapter Twenty Four**

John settled back down on the chair and sighed, he couldn't help but smile a little. Sherlock had brought him to the cottage almost three weeks ago and John had enjoyed every moment of getting to know Sherlock on a more personal level. He looked around the living room, eyeing the cane that was leaning against the end table next to his chair. He and Sherlock had both agreed that the limp he had was psychosomatic, much to John's annoyance.

Sherlock walked into the room holding two mugs in his hands and a smile on his face as he handed one over, "Here you go," he said softly.

"Thanks," John smiled back as he took it and held it between chilled hands, "So, when are we going to be able to leave, I've done a lot of physio here and I still don't know how you got them to agree to come all the way out here?" he asked the consulting detective.

"That's simple. Mycroft has plenty of people working for him and it's nice to see you looking a lot better since we came here two months ago," he smiled. He had been happy to see the strength return to John, even though the limp was still there, "Oh, and I have found us a place," he smiled to him, "A nice little place on Baker Street and the landlady is someone I know and helped in the past. She is giving us a discount because of it."

"Oh, and who is that? You have helped a lot of people after all." John questioned with a little grin, taking a sip of his tea.

"Mrs Hudson," he answered him.

John nodded, "Ah, I remember you telling me about her and that she was back in England," he exclaimed remembering the account was one of many of the interesting cases that Sherlock had talked to him about.

"We can go and see it tomorrow, if you wish," he suggested.

John nodded his head, "Sounds good to me," he grinned.

Sherlock grinned back and the two of them settled down for the rest of the evening together with plans for the next day for the two of them to see the flat and the prospect of living together.

XxXxX

Sherlock smirked as he sent another text looking at the TV that was playing in front of him. The live broadcast of Lestrade's conference about the serial suicides. He didn't hear as John limped up behind him and watched as people on screen reacted to the text messages that they all received.

"Sherlock, what are you doing?" John asked him as he shook his head.

Sherlock jumped a little as he turned around and looked to him, "Oh, erm, making sure that Lestrade knows that he is wrong and that they are not suicides, but actual murders," he told him, a little smile on his face.

"Ah, and you are just doing your civil duty as to inform Lestrade of that, and not the reporters?" he asked with a little smirk.

"Well, of course they need to know the truth as well, and since we are going back to London tomorrow. I think it might be a good time to tell Lestrade as to where we will be living," he then grinned as he quickly sent another text, this time to Lestrade only.

I shall be at 221b Baker Street from tomorrow at seven in the evening, do stop by. - SH - 3:32pm

"Done?" John asked him.

"Yes," he smiled as he put away his phone.

"Right, let's finish packing things away since we are going home tomorrow," he announced, smiling back as the two of them walked to their bedroom.

"Do you think Lestrade will contact us?" Sherlock asked as they reached the bedroom.

"I have no doubt he will," he reassured him with a smile.

Sherlock nodded and the two of them carried on packing away all the things that they wouldn't need tomorrow when they went home.

XxXxX

John sighed in relief as he put down one of the bags, looking at Sherlock as he walked into the room as well. There were a few more bags to bring up but Sherlock had already volunteered to help with those, while John began to straighten the place up a little. Their things, well, mainly Sherlock's, as John didn't have much in the way of furniture or personal possessions. Sherlock left and brought the rest of their bags up. John shook his head as he saw the things that the two of them had acquired during their stay in the countryside.

"I can't believe how much stuff we have, we went there with a bag each," he chuckled.

"We brought what we needed and I have to say a few things that we didn't," Sherlock smiled wryly at him as he opened one such bag and pulled out a few cups, and trinkets that they had bought, mainly for each other.

John smiled softly, as he went over, leaning on his cane a little as he pulled some out and looked around, "Over here," he called as he took the picture frame and placed it proudly on the mantle above the fire, "Perfect," he murmured to himself.

"Yes," Sherlock agreed as he looked to the picture of the two of them. It had been taken when they had come to London to look at Baker Street, just after they had agreed and signed the lease. Mrs Hudson had insisted that she take their picture. John and Sherlock were looking at each other, smiling, happy and content.

"I need food, it's almost seven, we missed dinner at the cottage," John smiled at him as he turned around. Sherlock kissed him gently as he nodded his head in agreement though John knew that Sherlock wouldn't eat much if they did.

Sherlock gave a sigh as he looked to his phone as it began to ring, "I do prefer text," he mumbled a little as he answered it, "Yes Lestrade," he said as he nodded a few times and then said, "I shall be bringing my own assistant," he grinned as he looked to John. There were a few more words exchanged as he then hung up.

"What?" John asked him, eyes narrowing a little.

"We have a case," he grinned, "And you shall be assisting me," he told him.

John began to shake his head and the thought better of it, "All right," he smiled. The two began to make their way out of Baker Street.

Sherlock was grinning as he said, leaving the flat, "The game is on."

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**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, you guys are amazing. Only one more chapter left, and I do hope you will enjoy it!**


	25. Chapter 25

**I don't own Sherlock, I'm just messing around while I have the chance.**

**Well, here is the last chapter of Fated Meetings. And I do hope that you will enjoy this one!**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Five**

John followed Sherlock out of the cab and towards the police tape. They had arrived at the scene, and now all they needed to do was to meet with Lestrade. This would be the first time that John would finally get to meet the detective inspector. Sherlock had told him about him often enough, and they had talked a little bit over the phone when he was in the countryside with Sherlock recovering. But now they were back and already they had been asked on a case.

Sherlock glanced back to John and could see the insecurity in his eyes, he smiled to him as he said, "Come on John, everything will be fine you know," he reassurance was just what John needed.

"Thanks," John smiled to him, "Right, let's do this," he gave a deep breath and walked beside him as they reached the tape.

"Hello freak," came a snide voice as someone stepped up to the tape and glared at Sherlock.

"Ah Sally Donovan, a voice I haven't missed while on holiday," he said with false cheer.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him as she glance to the side and saw John, "And who is this?"

"We are here to consult with Lestrade," he told him, "He called for us," he added as he began to duck under the tape and hold it up for John.

"Did he followed you home or something?" she asked the strange man with a cane.

John looked to her and then to Sherlock, "Do you really put up with this shit?" he asked his boyfriend.

"Unfortunately the intelligence of the Yard is lacking with this one," he said with a little smirk on his face.

"And to inform you Sergeant Donovan," John began, shocking her with knowing her rank, Sherlock had told him a lot about the people he worked with over the last years and a bit, "I followed him home," a little grin on his face as he followed Sherlock underneath.

Sherlock and John began to head towards the house, knowing that Lestrade would be inside. Donovan followed them as someone started to head out of the house in a blue forensics suit.

"Don't mess up my crime scene," he said as soon as he saw Sherlock coming towards the house.

"I do nothing of the sort," Sherlock snorted as he looked to the man with a slight look of disdain on his face.

"And who is this? I don't want him on my scene either!?" he exclaimed as he looked towards John.

"That's what I asked, but they wouldn't tell me," Donovan said as she went to stand next to the man.

"And you must be Anderson," John said with a nod of his head, glancing to Sherlock who nodded his head.

"How?" Anderson asked as he looked to him, eyes a little wide.

"Simple, Sherlock talked about you," John snorted, wondering how thick these two were.

"Why would he talk to you about us?" Donovan said as she looked to the smaller man.

"Haven't you worked it out yet?" Sherlock sighed as he added, "I guess they are more idiotic than I thought," he sighed as he looked to John.

"Did you talk to me with them, or about me while they were around at all?" John then asked him as he glanced to Sherlock.

"Yes I have," he nodded his head.

"Then you're right, they don't have an excuse," he nodded his head in agreement. He had heard a lot about the two people in front of him, he hadn't wanted to believe that professionals could be so… unprofessional.

"So who the hell are you then?" Donovan said as she was beginning to lose her patience with the two men before her.

"Donovan!" came a call from the house as a tall man in a long coat walked out, "Has Sherlock arrived yet?" he asked as he then spotted the two of them.

"Lestrade," Sherlock said as he took a stepped towards the man.

"Good to see you Sherlock," he said as he looked to him for a moment and then turned to his companion, "and you must be John," he grinned as he held out a hand for the man to take.

John smiled, "That I am, good to meet you as well Greg," he said as he took the hand and shook it firmly.

"So, did Sherlock rope you into coming down here?" he asked him as he ignored the looks from Donovan and Anderson.

"Nah," he said, "He asked, and I followed, just like the first time," he smiled a little as he looked to Sherlock.

Greg laughed and nodded, "Yeah, he does that," he said.

"Well, we have a crime scene to get to?" Sherlock said as he began to walk around them and go towards the house, there was a crime to solve after all.

Donovan and Anderson looked and watched. The infamous John Watson that Sherlock had been talking about for the last year was real. They had both bet that he hadn't been, and that it was just a way for Sherlock to annoy them that he had a friend. But he was right there in front of them, walking away from them.

John and Greg shared a look, and both knew it would be the first of many when it came to Sherlock and his need for cases. The two walked side by side as they talked, and got to know each other face to face. Sherlock in the lead as he went to the crime scene on the third floor.

This was the true beginning of an adventure that would span decades, save countless lives, solve too many cases to remember them all. Sherlock and John would have a lifetime together to do all that. But for now, they had a case to solve, of a lady that had apparently killed herself alone in Brixton, along with several other victims that had all apparently killed themselves.

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**Thank you all for the wonderful reviews. You guys kept me going! I hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.**


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